The Makings of A Killer
by Roaming Tigress
Summary: The story of one duck who came to be one very foul villain. If you think Negaduck is bad, meet Javert! COMPLETED! Please RR!
1. Innocence Lost

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   


Chapter One:   
Innocence Lost 

  
  
  
  


On one muggy night on May 26th, 1982 in the city of St. Canard, a small, shadowed figure carried a small box through a dimly-lit parking lot. In the poor lighting, the figure revealed to be a daintily built she-duck with a black patch of feathers over each eye. Her disheveled hair was black as ebony, and the expression on her face was a mix of sorrow and desperation. 

Her name was Fantine. Already she had five children from the same abusive drunkard that was her husband. She was either too blindly devoted - - or afraid - - to leave him. At the age of twenty-eight she looked twice her age after years of drug abuse and prostitution. 

In her arms was a small, well-worn cardboard box covered with a blanket. Inside was a quiet, shivering infant duckling, white, with a black patch over its right eye. The sound of a motorcycle zooming past startled him into a crying fit, but the soft voice of his mother he soon calmed down. 

Written in permanent marker on the side of the box was "Javert Adair, please take care of him." The child was only a few hours old, and the woman's husband had threatened to kill her and the child if she did not give him up. Before she could even cut the cord, she was ushered out the door and ordered to drop him off at the social service's building. 

"Alright, we're here . . . " She spoke softly, cautiously crossing through the dimly-lit parking lot of The Fiendish Organization for World Larceny. Clutching the box against her chest, she crept along the wall and approached a large, metal door. Believing this was the orphanage she was directed to, she knocked on the door and waited a moment. 

"I don't want to do this, baby Javvie, but it's for the best . . . " Fantine whispered, reaching into the box and giving the infant one last kiss. 

It had been a week since a bomb had been detonated at the evil organization's headquarters and security had stepped up. Any suspicious persons, especially ones with packages, were shot on site. Already they had lost two agents and High Command was not going to take any more chances. Each agent was worth more than gold to the organization, and the loss of even one could mean the difference between the company's success and failure. 

Two F.O.W.L guards, one a middle-aged Lanier Falcon wearing a black body suit. Sitting next to him was a young beige American Bulldog in an old-style police uniform, watched Fantine from inside the parking lot's security night stand. The falcon, upon seeing her, drew out an assault rifle only to have the bulldog motion for him to lower it down. 

"Easy with the aim, Millfried . . . " The muscular dog growled. "If you hit that box, you might set off the bomb." 

"I know what I'm dong, Thorton!" The falcon hissed, smacking his companion upside the head and taking aim for her again. "I won't set off the bomb if I take aim for her head, ya idiot!" 

Fantine placed the box down on the porch, and slowly began to walk away. Feeling herself tear up again, she took off, sobbing quietly. She rushed past the night stand, and with two well-placed shots to the head, she crumpled to the ground, dead. 

The guards walked out of their night stand a moment later and approached the box with a bomb detonating device. The sound of a baby crying had startled the guards enough to drop their weapons. 

"But I thought . . . " Thorton murmured to himself, looking over at the body of the child's mother. For a rare moment in his life, the dog felt sympathy. 

"If only I knew . . . " 

Millfried remained cold to the infant's plight. Whatever would become of the orphan was none of his business. He looked to the box at the infant with disgust, and gave the same look back to Thorton. A hardened agent, the falcon had no remorse for anyone, or anything. Be it a small child, a friend, or family member. 

"Don't tell me you feel sorry for the kid!" He scoffed at the sight of the fellow FOWL employee going soft. "Just dump it off at the orphanage and help me drag that dead broad to the wood chopper. Better yet, toss the kid in wtih her then the two can be together in Hell!" 

With a heavy sigh, the bulldog reached into the box and looked the child over. He took notice of the name on the box and looked back at his partner. "Well, in a way - - " 

"Sap!" Snarled the falcon, roughly snatching the child away from Thorton and shoving him aside. "This squalling brat may be of use to High Command!" 

The bulldog slid on a patch of ice and abruptly fell on the ground with a loud thud. He looked up at Millfried with a raised eyebrow, curious of whatever was on his smarter partner's mind. "You surely jest! Whatever would High Command do with a baby? Aside from killing it, anyways?" 

An evil grin, the falcon helped the dog up onto his feet and lead him into F.O.W.L headquarters. "You'll see soon enough!" 


	2. Taken Under Wing

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Two:   
Taken Under Wing 

  
  
  


The cries of the baby being carried into the top criminal headquarters raised a few eyebrows by passing yellow-clad Eggmen and agents. The falcon grumbled under their breath, giving the passing onlookers a dirty look. "What, you haven't seen a baby before?" He hissed, covering a hand over the Javert's bill to muffle his whimpers. FOWL Headquarters had always been an ominous place, but it was especially frightening for an infant. 

"If High Command doesn't want you, then you'll have a one-way trip to the morgue!" He growled, trying to resist the temptation to snap Javert's delicate neck. 

While making a bee line to the High Command chamber, the falcon was tripped by a dashingly handsome rooster sporting a metalic beak. In his twenties, he was only at the start of his career, quickly making his way up to be Chief Agent. 

As Thorton came crashing to the ground, the child was accidentally thrown in a garbage bin. Damn you, chicken! 

Steelbeak placed a foot on the dog's back and laughed raucously, snapping his fingers and pointing to the noise coming from the garbage bin. 

"Milly, Milly . . . Since when did FOWL open up a daycare center?" 

"Long story, Steelbeak . . . " Millfried grunted, tapping his fingers on the floor. "Now would you mind getting up off me? You aren't a lightweight and I'd rather not have this suit have footprints on it!" 

"Just get off of him!" Ordered Thorton, dragging in the corpse of Javert's mother through the backdoor. When Steelbeak ignored him, he dropped the body in the busy hallway and had a brief scuffle with the rooster. 

"Were did you put the child?" He asked after giving Steelbeak a swift kick to the rear when he eventually started to leave. 

Millfried, mumbling a few non-Disney words under his breath, stumbled over the garbage bin and yanked the wailing child out by the scruff of his neck. "Got it . . . " 

"The name's Javert, eh? Interesting name . . . " Thorton mumbled, shoving an Eggman aside. "I think it's French for, erm . . . Something!" 

Millfried let out an exasperated sigh, slapping a passing secretary on the rear. He ducked aside just as she went to give him a slap on the cheek. "Who cares? As long as he becomes Chief Agent instead of that paltry poultry." With the help of his assistant, he dragged the cadaver into the Body Storage freezer. 

"Mill, you're comparing apples and oranges here," Thorton muttered, tossing a cigarette into the incinerator as his companion practically tossed the corpse into the freezer. "You heard High Command, Steelbeak is and always will be their number one weapon." 

"Ah, but that can change!" Millfried replied in a sing-songy tone. "If that scrawny squalling thing shuts up, I'm sure I can work something out with High Command. Lately they've been sort of open-minded about new ideas. I'm sure if they're open to new ideas regarding weapons of mass destruction, they'll do something in regards to this child. This is FOWL, the number one criminal organization in the world. They'll do anything for world domination." 

"Emphasis on sort of open-minded . . . " Thorton grumbled, walking out the room and propping up a foot on a chair to tie up his shoelaces. 

"Look, don't you think you're aiming a little far? I mean, this is High Command we are dealing with!" He motioned toward the chamber. "Now, working out new and exciting things with the Eggmen is a whole different matter!" 

"Well of course it would be, you bloody idiot!" Milfried snapped, trying to keep his voice low. "They can't walk a straight line, let alone think of a half-decent idea." 

Thorton waved it away and gave a shrug of his shoulders as they walked through the ominous steel doors of High Command Chamber. "Eh, true . . . " 

"What is it that you have brought us, Thorton?" Spoke the female High Command figure in the center. This was Siege. 

"A child," Millfried replied quickly, holding Javert out for them to take a better look of him. "We found it in a box in the back of the headquarters. Thorton and I mistook the mother for someone dropping off a bomb and shot her on sight." 

The shadowed figure on the right spent a moment of his time thinking this over, running a finger along his chin. "Very good move, you two, but . . . What would we do with a child?" 

"Simple," Juno mused, shrugging her shoulders once and leaning back into her chair. "We would raise him to become a villain. It has never been done here at FOWL, but I think it will be worth a try. We will take him under wing. With no coddling, no other children to play with, no pointless morals to lean, he will be a hardened criminal before he reaches ten!" 

Excellent, just excellent! Well, Millfried, they've always said, great minds think alike! "That's . . . Just what I was going to suggest, Your Greatness. This way, I suppose we'll finally have our agent of our dreams." 

The figure to the left chuckled. "Surely you jest! No agent can be better than Agent Steelbeak!" 

"Ohhhh but I'm not, Tyson!" She sneered, her eyes narrowing into slits as the screen dimmed out. 

* * *

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	3. Only Time will Tell

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Three:   
Only Time will Tell

  
  
  


Four and a half years had past since Javert was adopted by F.O.W.L High Command. Although he was essentially a happy and healthy child, he was a confused one who wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. The toddler didn't understand why he was shoved away when he instinctively hugged his adoptive mother. He had seen children on television being cuddled by their parents, so why couldn't he do the same? 

From that point on, television was strictly limited. The last thing the organization wanted was for him to get "ideas" that would discourage him from becoming a hardhearted villain. His adoption was kept top secret. The last thing F.O.W.L wanted was to have a reputation for being charitable. 

No amount of crying or pleading would give him the attention he wanted, and often needed. These were cries for love, and for help. He was given attention only when his adoptive mother felt it was necessary. As much as it seemed is if he was being neglected, Siege Any physical discipline or manhandling was out of the question. The reason for this would be the possibility of him turning his back on the organization as he become older. 

Javert's living quarters were as barren as his upbringing. A dingy beige carpet and sterile white walls replaced the usual pastel colours found in a young child's bedroom. Also lacking were soft toys, jack-in-the-boxes, and other childhood playthings. Perhaps the most colourful object in the room was a large poster of the evil organization's logo. Written under it was Remember Who You're With: Today, St. Canard, Tomorrow, The World. He was too young to understand what this meant, and being the curious toddler he was, decided to ask his mother. 

"Mommy, what does that mean?" He pointed to the poster, a twinkle in his silver eyes. 

The grey-feathered, black-haired duck sneered for a brief moment, took hold of the pudgy duckling and sat him on her lap. For a brief moment, she gave him a hug. "My dear son, one day, you will learn."   
  
"But I want to know now!" Javert insisted, tugging at his mother's blouse. When she ignored him, he got a little bit louder, but cheerfully so. 

"Now! Now! Now! Now! NOW!" 

"SILENCE!" She suddenly snapped, yelling loud enough to be heard in the F.O.W.L apartment's hallway. "You respect your elders, do you understand me?!"   
  
"Jeesh . . . What crawled up her butt and died?" Scoffed a passing agent who was passing by the apartment door. "Must be on the rag!"   
  
"Beats me, Frederick . . . " The other agent snickered. "She's been that way since the kid came into the picture. Maternal instincts don't seem quite what they're cracked up to be!"   
  
Stunned by his mother's sudden show of anger, Javert could only nod as he cringed submissively in her lap. "Y-Yes, mommy . . . "   
  
"Very good . . . " She murmured tonelessly, helping her son off her lap. "Do not pester me anymore, Javert. Tomorrow you will be starting school."   
  
"What's . . . School?" Javert asked, somewhat still shaken and half expecting to be yelled at for asking a question. "Is it a game?"   
  
"No, it's not a game you stupid git . . . " Siege said between gritted teeth. "It's . . . A place where you go to learn things and make you smarter. "   
  
"Were is this place, mommy?" He could not contain his curiosity any longer.   
  
"It's . . . At where mommy works, Javert," Siege replied, suddenly calmed down from her outburst. "You will have a teacher who will teach you different things. Writing, reading, mathematics, villainy - - "   
  
"What's . . . Villainy?" He asked with an innocent grin. 

Siege kneeled down beside her son, and grinned as she brought her face up to his. The child was too young to see the evil that was in her hazel eyes. "You'll find out sooner or later, Javvie!" 

"B-But I don't want to leave you, mother!" He whimpered, clinging to her legs. "I don't want to go to school! I love you mommy!"   
  
Siege looked down at her child and firmly pried him off of her. "Sometimes, kid, you have to do things you don't want to do. You can't get your way all the time."   
  
Javert looked up at Siege while fidgeting with a F.O.W.L keychain. He had not noticed the look of disappointment that was on his mother's face. "Will there be other children, mommy?" 

"No . . . " She replied, again tonelessly. "No, there won't be any children at school, Javert. It will be just you, and your teacher."   
  
"Why?"   
  
His mother gave out an exasperated sigh while going through her filing cabinet. There are times when she wished she hadn't adopted the orphan, and this was one of them. "That's just the way it worked out. If you don't go to school, you'll have a very hard time learning things and you won't be smart like your dear mom. "   
  
That night, when his mother was asleep, Javert crept over to the small bedroom window that overlooked St. Canard Harbor. Tearfully, he wondered what would become of him, and wondered if his mother really loved him the way a mother should. What would the future hold for such a small child, one that had no father, and without a proper upbringing? Only time would tell.   
  


* * *


	4. Mrs Blare

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Five:   
Mrs. Blare

  
  
  


Five o'clock the next morning, Javert was ready for school. The duckling laid curled up under the bedcovers, looking as innocent as can be. To anyone who had seen him now, no one would suspect how he would turn out. He was dreaming a good, happy dream. He was chasing after a clown throwing candies, and catching them in his little bill. A moment later, he was cuddling a kitten and a puppy who happily came bounding over to him. The happiness he had in this dream was joyfully surreal. 

"Time for school, Javert!" Seige yelled as she came down the hallway and into his bedroom. When he did not stir, she pulled up the blinds. Still, the toddler slept. 'Bloody hell, this kid would sleep through a world war!' 

"I said, time for school!" She growled in impatience, shaking him slightly and finally awakening him. Quickly, she changed him and took him down to the kitchen for breakfast. The High Commander could not wait to have him out of her sight for half the day. 

"Mommy, I had a funny dream last night!" He beamed, drinking a glass of lemonade and getting it down his new school clothes. 

"Really?" She mumbled while wiping the juice from his face and dabbing at the wet stain on his shirt. "Er, what was it about?" 

"I was playing with kittens and puppies!" He exclaimed, fidgeting with hyperactivity. As it is with any child of his age, sitting still was something Javert just didn't do for too long. "And I was eating lots and lots of candy! A silly man with a big nose an' funny face gave them to me!" 

"That's lovely, Javert . . . " Seige said in a slightly disappointed tone. These were not the dreams she was hoping she would hear about. Still, she wasn't giving up on the orphan yet. The child was still naive about what was right and what was wrong, and besides, it was just a dream. The tutor which she hired for her 'son' was the best one she could find in St. Canard. 

As soon as the toddler gulped down the last mouthful of cereal, he was quickly whisked out the door by an Eggman. From there, he was walked down a long set of stairs. Halfway down the staircase, his legs began to ache and he pled to be carried the rest of the way. His pleadings were ignored by the duck who had a seemingly permanent growl frozen on his face. Seige believed that forcing him into the exercise would help build character, and that anyone who carried him would be punished. 

Javert wasn't the only one going down the long, winding path of stairs. Steelbeak too was on his way down to collect ammo and check in with his daily duties. He took one look at the youngster, and with a devilish smirk he stuck a foot out to trip him. The cocky rooster laughed raucously as the child went tumbling down. Before he would get into trouble by High Command's matriarch, he started to sneak off to the Ammo Room.   
  
Not surprisingly, Javert cried his lungs out. A baby tooth was knocked out, and a little blood trickled down his chin where he had bit his bottom bill. The Eggmen let go of the squalling child to cover his ears and didn't notice the child had quieted down. It was a strange calm that came upon the child, one that not came from comfort, but rather, hatred. 

Balling up his little fists, Javert came rushing over to Steelbeak and leapt onto his back. He gripped ahold of his jacket and kicked his back with all his might. The startled rooster jumped back like a wild bronco and managed to fling him off. His hackles raised up, he gave the child a powerful backhand smack upside the head. "DON'T YOUSE EVER DO DAT TO ME!" He roared. Abuse from the rooster's childhood had caused him to be react violently to being taken by surprise, and it made no difference in the world if the attacker was child or adult. 

"I HATE YOU!" Javert wailed, sitting down on the ground and throwing a temper tantrum. Quickly, the eggman responsible for bringing the child to school grabbed ahold of him by the arm and dragged him around the corner of the hallway. This incident was the beginning of an eternal struggle between the two avians. 

"Feelin's mutual, kid . . . " Growled Steelbeak as he looked on momentarily, straightening out his jacket. He lowered his hackles, smoothed out his comb and sauntered into the Ammo Room which he had intended on going in the first place. 

"Ahhh . . . So this is Javert!" Said a well-dressed female Blue Jay upon seeing Javert brought into a small classroom. She was around the age of sixty, with short, steel-grey hair and a pleasantly plump built. For years she was a English teacher in Duckburg, but when the school burnt down she went from school to school, 

"I am Mr. Blare and I will be your teacher!"   
  
Javert looked up cautiously at the tall, aged bird and scowled. He was still very much upset by the run-in with Steelbeak, and would feel this way for quite some time. 

"Hi . . . "   
  
"Not a friendly fellow, are you?" Mrs. Blare chuckled, seating Javert in front of a small blackboard. He handed him a piece of manilla paper and a package of crayons and took a seat next to him. 

"Now, Javert, I want you to draw a picture of what you want to be when you're grown up!" 

The duckling looked up at her defiance. Never in his life had anyone but his mother tell him what to do. This would take some getting used to. 

"Make me!"   
  
"You will do as you're told to do!" The blue jay ordered, raising his otherwise soft voice into stern tone. He could tell the child was becoming quite the un socialized menace. 

"You're not my mother!" Javert yelled, tears streaming down his face. In spite of acting like a child who hadn't got his way, he was confused, and scared. 

Mrs. Blare smoked a cigarette as she looked out a window. She spoke calmly, hoping that the toddler would pick up on her mood. 

"I know that, Javert, but I am here to help and teach you new things." 

Javert started to cry again. Being dragged out of bed after a fun dream, tripped down a flight of stairs and being brought into a new environment was just too much for him. 

"I want my mommy . . . " He whimpered. Finally, Mrs. Blare broke down and gave the child the first hug he would ever receive. He clung to her, sniffling as the crying had died down as she gently stroked his back. She knew it this was forbidden, but what she didn't know was this was on surveillance.   
  
Back in the High Command Chamber, tempers were flaring. Seige bitterly dug her nails into the palms of her hands hard enough to draw blood. Not able to control her anger anymore, she punched a hole in the surveillance monitor. 

"I should've known better than to rely on her to teach my son!" She fumed, turning to her companions. "Get the execution squad out NOW! Before she turns my son into some goody-goody sap who wants to save the world!" 

At her order, Jerold picked up the phone. "Execution squad, execution squad . . . " He mused to himself, punching in the code numbers 666. "Send in the firing squad PRONTO!" 

"But why?" Asked a perplexed voice on the other end. "Security breach?" 

"Worse." 

"F.B.I?" 

"No. It seems as if someone thought it would be 'cute' to cuddle a High Commander's son," explained Jerold, rubbing a finger through his thick eyebrows. "Tyson caught sight of it on the surveillance camera. Not good."   
  
Meanwhile, in the classroom, Javert had drawn a picture of what he wanted to be when he grew up. Not a villain as his mother and her organization had in mind, but rather, a police officer. After his drawing, he scampered over to a bin of toys were he had found a policeman's hat and placed it on his head. 

Mrs. Blare couldn't help but to smile. It was hard for her to comprehend such an adorable child would be wanted by F.O.W.L. In spite of her age she wished she could adopt him and raise him properly, just like she had raised her son. 

"You are under arrest for breaking F.O.W.L High Command orders!" Barked a voice from outside the classroom door. Shocked, she clasped a hand to her chest as if she had a heart attack. Javert took to hiding underneath a desk and shivered as he watched two burly ducks burst in and violently drag his tutor out. 

"Don't take her away!" He cried. Upon seeing his mother step into the room, he ran over and clung to her legs. "I don't want them taking her away! She's too nice to me!" 

Seige looked down at Javert with indifference, grabbed ahold of the hat and tossed it in the garbage bin. "Being nice was her fault." 

"What does that mean?" He asked tearfully, looking his mother right in the eyes. 

"It means . . . That from now on, I'll be your teacher." Seige replied, leading him down the hallway and up the stairs. Gunfire started to go off within earshot, and he jumped at this sound. The only noise he heard similar was that of fireworks, which he enjoyed. He tried to scramble over to the nearest window, but was pulled back and into the apartment. 

His beloved teacher was being executed, and it was best that he didn't see it happen. 

* * *


	5. Five Years Later

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Five:   
Five Years Later 

  
  
  
  
  


At the age of ten, Javert had grown from a pudgy toddler to a lean, mean youngster. His naive innocence was replaced with the heart of a devil, and the mind of a seasoned serial killer. Already at his young age he had killed twelve people, and this was just practice. 

Most children of his age were writing stories to boost their grades and expand their creativity. Javert, on the other hand, was learning to be a sniper. As efficient as he already was, he had much to learn. The first two people he killed were brought down by multiple shots. His aim was something to be desired. 

In appearance, Javert was beginning to look like a predator, with a sinewy body with intense eyes. His once round face was beginning to somewhat resemble Darkwing's, but the similarity ended there. He was tall for his age, and his bill was fairly small. The patch over his eye had earned him the nickname "Pirate Boy", which he despised. 

"One bullet to the head will do the trick, son!" Siege quickly instructed her son over his communicator as she made her way to High Command Chamber. "Don't let the adrenaline rush cloud your train of thought. If you let this happen you'll either let your victim escape, or end up getting shot yourself!" 

"Don't worry, mom!" He grinned, watching the targets being brought out and placed against a wall of F.O.W.L's firing range. These targets were real people that had been rounded up for Javert's training. Usually they were SHUSH spies who were caught spying on F.O.W.L. At other times they were police officers that were caught unaware. Today, however, he was presented with something a little different. 

"Ohhhh we're in luck, a couple of incompetent Eggmen who failed to do their job," he said to himself, loading a bullet into his sniper rifle. Unlike his other targets, these ones were not blindfolded or shackled to the wall for easy firing. They were left to wander in the arena-like compound, giving Javert more of a challenge to shoot moving "prey." 

He took no hesitation in pulling the trigger, and in one shot the first Eggman was brought down with a shot to the brain. Not bad for a novice! 

"Hah, this is kid's stuff!" 

In less than five minutes, the remaining four were brought down. One escaped after being shot in the shoulder (and later recaptured and killed), while another was killed by a shot to the jugular vein. Another was left half-dead, slumped over in a pool of his own blood. The last attempted to jump over the wall and was dispatched with a shot to the back of the head. 

"Yas gotta be better den dat if yas wanna be a sniper!" Jeered Steelbeak as he watched on the sidelines with the other agents. To him, Javert was just a wannabe villain with a bratty attitude. A few laughed at his remark, causing the child's temper to soar. 

"Awww, the little kid's got the whole angry consumer thing going!" Laughed an observing agent, tossing a apple core at Javert. "Here's some lunch, Pirate-Boy!" 

"Who wouldda t'ought dat de son of a 'igh Commander would toin out to 'ave such a bad aim? 'e can't even tell de difference between de 'ead and de shoulders!" Steelbeak said to the applecore-thrower, just waiting for Javert to explode. "I know 'e's a kid an' all but ya'd t'ink de ol' broad wouldda t'ought 'em to aim decently!" 

Quickly, Javert pointed his rifle at the rooster's direction and ignored everyone else. The child had gone trigger-happy, and was ready to take another life. 

"Do you want to be next?" He asked in a deadly serious tone, not the least bit afraid of the fully mature rooster. His immense size, dangerous beak and muscular statue didn't the least bit intimidate the young Javert. 

"Someday i'll probably get my bullet," Steelbeak casually replied, yanking the gun from the scornful duckling and holding it just out of his reach. "Not today. Yer just a kid, I ain't worried about youse if dat's what yer t'inkin'. " 

"Give me back my gun!" Javert growled, making a jump for the gun. He tried to give Steelbeak a swift kick to the shin, but ended up getting tripped. 

Frustrated at Steelbeak's quick moves, he attempted to steal a gun from another agent, but no dice. For a moment he got ahold of him again, but was quickly bitten on the hand. 

"Yeeeeeow!" Javert yelped, examining his hand for any sort of injuries. Fortunately, the bite hadn't broken the skin enough to draw blood, and no bones were broken. Only a superficial scrape remained. 

"What's going on out there?" Hissed Siege's voice on the loudspeaker. She had been watching the scrap from the security camera, and was more than annoyed. 

"Nothin'!" Steelbeak shouted back, sidestepping another leap from Javert. He grinned as the child went headfirst into the bleachers, banging his head and causing him to black out for "Ev'ryt'ing is a-ok and in top shape 'ere, de kid just took a plunge into de bleachers 'ere, but, yea, ev'ryt'ing's jus' dandy!" Not wanting to get into trouble by his superiors, he slunk off. 

"Hah! He'll feel that one tomorrow!" A lean brown dog laughed, pointing at little Javert as he tried to get up off the ground. He stepped aside as the F.O.W.L Medical Unit showed up and escorted the young killer back into the building. 

Luckily, aside from a headache and a bruise to the forehead, Javert was none the worse for wear. He rested on his bed, looking up at the ceiling with his eyes narrowed into slits. 

"Mom, you should fire that stupid rooster!" 

"Easier said than done, Javert," remarked Siege as she hastily placed a cold compress on his forehead. "He's our top agent, although sometimes you'd think otherwise. Agents are only fired at a last moment basis. If we fired them merely for making an ass out themselves, we wouldn't have them to carry out our duties. Nonetheless, I will have a word with him today to ensure today's incident won't repeat itself." 

"Well, can I kill him?" Javert asked excitedly, as if he had suddenly developed a caffeine high. "C'mon, please? I'd love to give that idiot a brain shot!" 

"NO!" 

"Alright . . . " He said in a disappointed tone, turning his head to look out at the window. He had wished his mother was enthused about his suggestion as much as he was. "I guess I'll just be shooting stupid Eggmen and spies all my life." 

"Nonsense!" Snarled Siege, wanting to have Javert focus on the positive of his early villainhood. She wouldn't let him give up. "If it's the last thing I'll do, I'll see to it that you become St. Canard's most feared villain! Forget about Negaduck and Dr. Slug and even Steelbeak being on the top. You'll sink them!" 

Javert knew that she was saying this just so he would feel better. He didn't reply to this, and simply got up and polished the new sniper rifle Siege had given him. "Since I was very young I hated that Steelbeak. I will kill him, one of these days." 

"You better watch your back, or he'll shoot you faster than you can say 'kill'! You're damned lucky he hadn't done more damage to that hand!" She warned, recalling a near successful take over five years into his employment. Steelbeak had been punished for this act, but it had caused her to think twice of what he was capable of doing. "There's a reason for us having to keep close tabs on him. He'll turn on us given the chance, and tried to, once. " 

"Pffft . . . " Javert rolled his eyes, not believing that the big hot-shot would even attempt to take control of the organization and run it his way. "What harm could an oversized chicken nugget do?" 

"A lot." 

* * *


	6. Defiance

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Six: 

  
  
  


Over the past few months there were noticeable changes in Javert's behavior. He was becoming more rebellious, and at times, struck out at his mother when she gave him an order. Discipline rarely did any good. If anything, it made him worse, but she wouldn't let him get away with challenging her authority. Her associates gave her some advice, one being that he should be dumped at an orphanage, the other that he be sent to boot camp. She chose neither. 

One night he had gone off on his own to do a little "target practice", or so he said. Siege allowed this, wanting her son to be as independent minded as possible. He needed to go off on his own to hone his skills. 

"What did I tell you, Javert? Your curfew is set at nine o'clock!" Siege firmly informed her son as waltzed into the apartment with a smug grin on his face. The clock read 10:30pm, and he acknowledged this with a smirk. 

He gave his mother an aloof glance as he flopped on the couch and polished his sniper rifle. When he was done, he propped it up against the wall. "I am ten years old, mother. I am not a little kid anymore! I was only out shooting some cats, set the zoo animals loose . . .What's it to you? I'm entitled for my fun, aren't it?" 

"Well for as long as you are under F.O.W.L control you will do as High Command says!" Siege growled, marching up to him and looking him straight in the eyes. When he rolled them, she took a firm hold onto his bill and gave it a shake. "That includes ME, not only as a High Commander, but also as a mother. " 

Javert pulled his head away from his mother and spat in her face. He watched with an amused smirk as she hissed in disgust at this. "What the HELL was that for?!" 

"For giving your mother an attitude!" She shouted, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and giving him a hard smack across the face. It wasn't hard enough to loosen any teeth, but it left him startled with one reddened cheek. He shrunk back, scowling ruefully. Never before had he been struck. 

"Don't you EVER, EVER disobey me! Spit in my face on more time and I will personally feed you through ten trash compactors!"Siege said in a lower, even more serious voice. Her intent was not to harm her son, only to shake him up enough so that he could take her warning seriously. 

"Now go to your room, NOW." 

Not wanting to get another smack in the face, Javert reluctantly trudged to his bedroom. Grabbing his pocketknife, he carved "die, lowlifes" on his bedpost. At this moment, he hated everyone: his mother, the world, and everything to do with FOWL. These feelings stemmed from the smack on his face, and then some. He thought things would go his way if his mother wasn't in the picture, and he grinned evilly as he thought of completely eliminating her. 

If children won awards for being cruel, Javert would surely win it. Once his mother was killed off, he would go after Steelbeak and take his place as Chief Agent. Should the other High Commanders try to intervene, he would finish them off them as well. He was determined to climb to the very top, just at ten years old. 

"How should I do the job? There's a million ways . . . What would Elaine do?" He mused, examining a glass box that contained a bullet from Elaine Montague. This handsome Wood Duck drake was founder of F.O.W.L It dated back to 1820, when the organization started. "I can always use my rifle, or better yet, poison! Or I could blow up the building while everyone but me is in it!" What he didn't realize was that his mother was listening in on him. 

Siege didn't take this plotting too seriously, but couldn't afford to risk him turning against her. Thinking quickly, she hid his gun in a secret wall container. With it, she hid anything he could use as a poison. Knives were locked in the cupboard, and she slipped her F.O.W.L Taser into her pocket should he attack her. With everything out of his reach, she was more miffed than anything. _Who does that ungrateful brat think he is?! He's just asking for trouble . . ._

At the ring of her communicator, she hissed. "Yes, what is it . . . .?" 

"Your assistance is most urgently needed!" Said the voice on the other end. "Get to High Command chamber as soon as possible! We have an emergency situation on our hands!" 

"I'm on my way!" She replied as she hurried out of the apartment, forgetting to tell her son. She switched off her communicator, threw on her black trenchcoat and practically flew down the winding set of stairs. 

Remembering he had left his gun in the living room, Javert slunk out of his room. He heard his mother leave the apartment on a call of duty, and took advantage of being left unattended. Sure, Siege wasn't here for him to kill, but there was still that other F.O.W.L employee that he was after. If he couldn't kill his mother, he would kill Steelbeak, or at least try. 

"Were's my gun?" Javert thought out loud as he noticed it wasn't were he had last left it. He looked under the couch, not there. He checked his mother's bedroom, also not there. He spent half an hour looking for it before giving up, finally realizing that Siege had hid it. 

No worries, however, he still had his pocketknife. He grabbed it from his bedside table and made his way out into the apartment hallway. "Apartment 626 . . . " He muttered to himself, looking at each number that was printed on the top of each door. "Apartment 389, 654, 550, 666, 789 . . . Where the hell is 626?" 

The apartment's landlord, a scruffy-looking jackal, couldn't help but to wonder what was up with Javert. He seemed lost, and decided to go up and ask him. "Looking for something, Jav?" 

"Eh, yea . . . Were's Apartment 626?" Javert asked, trying to sound as if he wasn't up to anything. "Am I even in the right apartment complex?" 

"Yes, you're in the right building, but you're just not looking hard enough," the jackal scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "You're standing in front of it." 

The child grinned sheepishly while looking up at the number of the door. At a moment like this, he felt like he was the stupidest kid in the world. "Oooh . . . So I am!" 

_Stupid kid._   
  
He watched as the jackal shook his head and walk off around the corner of the complex. With no eyewitnesses about, Javert decided to take this moment to do what he wanted to do. He unlocked the door using the tip of his knife and quietly slipped in. 

* * *


	7. The Attack

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Seven:   
The Attack 

  
  
  


Javert crept behind the wall of the kitchen, waiting for Steelbeak to return back from wherever he went to. He took one look at his puny weapon, and took a quick glance at the knife block. Without a second thought, he decided what weapon he would use for the dirty deed. He would use a butcher knife, the biggest he has ever seen. A slash across the throat would suffice, but he wanted to make more of a mess. 

_ A nice cut to the gut would be perfect! I sort of feel like having chicken tonight . . . _Yes, he planned on eating his adversary when he was through with him. After all, a murderer had to dispose of the body some way or another. He would keep the beak as a macabre souvenir, the feathers for stuffing a pillow. He would grind up the bones and sell it as some sort of exotic remedy, like a poacher would with ground rhino horn. The colourful tailfeathers would be sold to any poor fool believing them to have magical powers. 

A the sound of footsteps, Javert crept behind a wall and waited. If there was one thing he had to learn, it would that he would have to be patient. He fidgeted, gritting his teeth. _Any moment would be nice_ . . . _C'mon you stupid good-for-nothing poultry! Just walk through that door! _At the sound of a door opening, he froze and held his breath. The familiar smell of English Feather wafted through his nostrils, and he grinned. 

_ Finally._

Without having a care in the world, Steelbeak sauntered into his apartment. He had a good day, went out on a date with a cute girl and committed a few crimes. Now it was his time to relax; he took a seat on the couch, propped his feet up on the footstool and let out a contented sigh. Yet, he wouldn't be relaxed for long. Before he could react, the child was upon him. 

"What de - - ?" He exclaimed as he felt a sudden weight being dropped onto his back. In the corner of his right eye, he saw it was the persistent Javert. With one smack he sent him flailing away. Lately, children were really getting on his nerves. If it wasn't Gosalyn trying to stop his schemes alongside her father, it was this hooligan. 

Determined, the child leapt upon him again and made an attempt to knife him in the back. This attempt failed as he was grabbed by an arm and bitten. 

"You 'ave crossed me one too many times, kid!" Steelbeak growled, slamming Javert against the wall with one hand. While making this maneuver, he was slashed across the arm, but paid little heed to his wound. If anything, he was more annoyed that his Armani suit had been torn. His brute strength was enough to keep Javert pinned down, but not for long. What he gained in strength, however, he lacked in speed. Sure, he was fast, but not fast enough. 

For Javert, it was the very opposite. Although not powerful, he was small and quick, especially in his attacks. He dug the knife in the rooster's sternum and dragged down toward his abdomen. The cut was made with precision speed, and he laughed wickedly at Steelbeak's horrified yell. When his enemy keeled over in pain, he pushed him off. 

"No one could survive such an injury!" Javert mused as he saw the blood and entrails spill out into the carpet. He left the knife embedded in the rooster's body, and with an evil smirk he started to sneak out of the apartment. 

"I will kill youse . . . " Steelbeak groaned, pulling the knife out. His eyes filled with hatred, he glared at Javert and swore vengeance upon him. Even in the condition he was in, he knew Javert was out to kill him to take his place. 

Javert stopped in the doorway, his hands arrogantly resting on his hips. "Oh yeah? Well, I don't think you have enough time on this planet to even think of that!" Quickly, he left the scene just in the nick of time. Steelbeak's yell had attracted the attention of others, and was quickly taken to F.O.W.L's medical center.   
  
It was close to two o'clock in the morning when Siege returned to the apartment. Not surprisingly, she had heard of the attempted murder of Agent Steelbeak. Being extremely valuable to the organization, Siege wanted to know who the attacker was. An attack against a fellow agent was considered against F.O.W.L regulations. It was often punishable by death, isolation on a desert island or a lifetime locked away in a dungeon. 

To many, death was the best way out. 

Javert was fast asleep in his bedroom, so she ruled him out as the attacker. She knew how much her son hated the big avian, but also knew Javert was no fool. As her son slept, she watched him. She noticed a few bruises, but otherwise didn't suspect anything. 

"Now what?!" Siege growled as her communicator signal went off. She picked it up, and sighed irritably. On the other end of the communicator was Sherman, a rather incompetent agent. The zebra wasn't terribly bright, but nonetheless, he was someone who carried out F.O.W.L's criminal deeds. 

"Yes, yes . . . What is it this time, Agent Sherman? You better not be calling me to tell me that the faucet in your apartment in leaking again . . ." 

The voice on the other end laughed nervously. "Oh n-no, ma'am! I just thought I'd let you know I saw your son sneaking out of Agent Steelbeak's apartment." 

"Ohhhh really . . . ?" She asked, not believing this. "Are you sure it was Javert? I mean, there's many, many young ducks of his age in this city." 

"Affirmative!" 

A moment of silence came upon Siege as she took another look at her son. On his arm there was the characteristic bite wound, caused by a defensive Steelbeak. 

* * *


	8. Revenge!

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Eight:   
Revenge! 

  
  
  
  


Morning started off like it always has at the Adair apartment. There was breakfast, followed by an hour of tutoring. All this was finished off with a round of target practice and Siege heading off to work. When she was out doing her High Command duties, Javert was always left to his own amusements. Often this meant going into town to shoot pigeons -- or sometimes pedestrians. 

Javert knew of Steelbeak's vulnerability in the state he was at the medical center. With a cruel smile forming on his small bill, he took the escalator down to the floor it was located. Perhaps, if he got down there, he could finish off the job he intended on doing. Maybe he could open up his stitches, or inject poison into his I.V. The possibilities were endless for the wicked child. 

"We'll see who's the better bird at the end . . . " 

**** 

Before orders were given to the agents, the High Commanders formed a private meeting in their discussion room. This room was in the attic of the F.O.W.L Headquarters, and was kept a secret from all but the three. 

"I say we move one of them out of St. Canard," suggested Jerold, his greying eyebrows furrowed. The proud-looking vulture leaned into his chair, reading over a handful of papers that Siege handed to him. "I can't say I'd be surprised if Javert was Steelbeak's attacker. That child is a menace to him!" 

"A menace he may be to the rooster, but a treasure for F.O.W.L!" Siege replied, remaining defensively optimistic. "What do you propose we do, Tyson?" 

The aged crane placed a tape down in the center of the table where the two other avians were sitting at. He was rather homely looking, with silvering hair, wrinkled eyelids and yellow eyes. His clothes didn't do much for him, especially the trenchcoat that looked like it had been around for centuries. 

Reaching into his trenchcoat, he pulled out a video and placed it down on the table in front of the others. He pointed to it with a long, bony finger and spoke gruffly. 

"Watch it, see what you think, and then make a decision." 

The tape showed the brutal attack on the organization's lead agent. Siege's eyes were practically glued to the scene the very moment her son appeared on it. 

"There's no doubting it now . . . " she remarked, watching the stabbing unfold. "I just . . . Don't know what punishment would suit him the best." 

Jerold was always one to execute first, and ask questions later. He grinned cruelly, exposing a gold tooth. "Well, there's the firing squad, hanging, electrocution. Then there's what we did to Jacob when he - " 

"I will not have my son killed!" Siege hissed, her maternal protectiveness kicking in. Jerold cringed at her sudden fury, and seeing this she settled back down in her chair. Perhaps secretly, Javert was something more to her than just a savage agent in training. She was proud of how he was turning out, and wouldn't want her hard work going down the drain. 

Tyson let out a groan of mockery. "Then keep him in his room, ground him and don't let him come down for supper!" 

"You're pushing your luck, Tyson!" Jerold warned. Jotting down a few notes, he looked over to the matriarch of the trio. "I say we make sure the two are kept separate. Maybe relocate Steelbeak to Duckburg HQ, at least for a few years. Perhaps when he gets back, Javert will forget all about his issues with him. " 

Siege knew this was easier said than done, but nonetheless, remained open about the suggestion. "I suppose we can give it a try." 

"Won't hurt, I suppose," Tyson replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Not to rain on your parade, but I doubt that child will forget about his issues with Steelbeak. That child has a memory better than an elephant." 

**** 

In the F.O.W.L Medical Center, Steelbeak was steadily on his way to recovery from the attack. Drowsy from the painkillers and bleary eyed from the anesthetic, he watched a rather attractive calico cat nurse approached his bed. He attempted a suave smile, but came off looking more drunk than anything. In spite of his shape he was in, he still eager to flirt with the ladies. If there was one advantage to being seriously hurt, it was that he got topnotch attention. 

He leered at the feline and waggled an eyebrow as she changed his I.V. "Hey, miss kitty . . . Come to take care o' de wounded soldier?" 

This flirting had not gone unnoticed to the calico cat. She ignored this, and took a quick look at his surgical incision. Avoiding eye contact with the smug rooster, she jotted down notes on his condition on a clipboard. She was amazed at his fast recovery. 

"Looking good, Agent Steelbeak," she said, handing the clipboard to a passing nurse. "The surgical area looks nice and clean, expect the feathers to grow back within a month. Providing you don't overdo it with any vigorous exercise and take your antibiotics, there should be no real problems." 

"'Ow bout youse come over an' kiss my boo-boo better?" He suggested with a saucy wink. 

_Men!_ Again, the nurse ignored his attempts to flirt with her. "With a little more rest you'll be up on your feet and ready to go back on the job." 

Steelbeak watched the nurse as she turned her back and left the room. "Aww youse say like I'm gonna die in two weeks! It was just a little stabbing! So my intestines sorta spilled out, and I lost a lotta blood but hey, I pulled t'rough at de end!" A nauseous feeling sunk into his stomach, and painfully he grimaced. As an attempt to elevate the pain, he instinctively curled up, but if anything this caused more trouble. 

"I'm gonna kill dat kid . . . " He growled. 

Watching the cat leave, Javert slunk in the room. An Eggman with a broken leg hobbled past, he did not resist the temptation to trip him. 

"My how the mighty have fallen!" He laughed at the unfortunate duck, walking right over him to get to Steelbeak's bed. Javert saw the obvious pain Steelbeak was in, and decided to push him further to his limits. 

"Oh, hello! 'ow nice of youse to pop in ta see 'ow I was doin'!" Steelbeak's voice dripped with sarcasm. He readied himself to give the child the beating of his life, but refrained. As enjoyable as the thought was, it wasn't risk being punished by High Command. He knew all too well of how protective Siege was of things she was proud of. 

Revenge popped into Javert's mind. He looked to the rooster's bed, then out into the hallway. _No, can't wheel him down the stairs, he's too heavy. But maybe . . . _He snapped his fingers, and approached a nurse on lunch break. Smiling sweetly, he tapped her on the shoulder. 

"Yes, how may I help you?" Asked the nurse, a stout looking middle-aged sparrow with medium-length brown hair. As she turned around, Javert looked away so that she couldn't see the trademark patch over his eye. 

"I think Steelbeak could do with a nice walk outside," Javert piped up, fidgeting with anticipation of causing more trouble for the agent's life. "A little fresh air, a little walk around . . . Does everyone good!" 

"You know, I do think you're right!" The sparrow chirped up, not suspecting a thing. On her way over to the patient care area, she patted Javert on the shoulder. 

While the nurse helped Steelbeak get out of bed, Javert hightailed it over to the staircase. He tucked his lithe body behind a garbage compactor, and waited. His mind was so set on revenge that everything else in the world might as well not exist. 

Soon enough, the rooster passed by the youngster. His walk was slow and lumbering, and didn't notice Javert until he felt a kick to his shins. Snapping his jaws in irritation, he whirled around to face the youngster. 

"Try dat again, punk!" He snarled. Although he was in a more vulnerable condition, it didn't stop him from lashing out. If anything, it made him more defensive and irritable. 

_All right, you asked for it!_ Mustering up all the strength his little body had, Javert gave Steelbeak a violent shove down the stairs. He let out a hearty laugh as he watched the rooster go tumbling down the stairs. His self-satisfaction rose at each thump of the bulky body. The only thing that would make his plan even better if he had brought a camera. 

"How does it feel to be shoved down?" He scoffed, hearing the metallic clang of Steelbeak's beak hit the ground. Understandably the child felt as if he was on top of the world. 

"Don't you know what comes around, goes around?" 

"Vice versa, idiot . . . " With a groan, Steelbeak stood up and shoved away an Eggman who offered to help him up. The pain in his stomach intensified, but in spite of this he sneered. A weaker individual might have cringed away from the child's cruelty, but not him. He knew the little game Javert was playing, and was ready for anything that was thrown at him. 

With his silver eyes filled with fury, he looked up at Javert again and spoke in an odd, calm tone. "Dis is only de beginnin', Javert." 

At the foot of the stairs, Javert casually leaned up against a wall and returned the very same look. 

* * *


	9. Of Fangirls and Darkwing Duck

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Nine:   
Of Fangirls and Darkwing Duck 

  
  
  


Five years have past and Javert was now a very handsome fifteen year old. Had he been allowed to go out on a date he would've had girls fighting to go out with him. With just one glance, he had the Eggwomen swooning over him as he passed through the hallways. A few of them even spent time on their lunch break to watch him during his shooting practice. They found it terribly depressing that Siege wouldn't allow them to have any sort of relationship with him. It would've softened him too much, she thought. 

Like wine, Javert improved with age, not only in appearance but in villainship as well. His aim was as perfect as could be, and his concentration was better than ever. Much to some FOWL employees' jealousy, he was now up on the top ten list of best agents. 

"See where I am now, Pine?" He sneered at the overweight hen suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder. "I'm right at number five! That'll soon go up, you'll see." H 

_ Must . . . Resist . . . Urge . . . To poison . . . With cleaning solution. _ Gritting her teeth, Ammonia Pine let out a groan and trudged down the hallway. She had yet another mess to clean up; the contents of a garbage bin had fallen over in the lobby. To any "ordinary" individual, it was something that could've simply been swept up. To Ammonia Pine, however, it was an emergency! 

"Just keep rubbing it in, Adair." 

_ I sure will._

Sauntering outside, Javert saw that his loyal fans were awaiting him at the target practice arena. A short dogface with blonde hair was blindfolded and placed up against the wall. He had been suspected of planning an attack on FOWL, bad enough to bring the organization down. As always, there was no trial; direct execution was the organization's way of getting rid of "pests". 

"Good morning, girls. I hope you didn't wait too long!" He smirked wryly at the girly crowd. He rather liked the attention they were giving him, as annoying as they were. Any attention that he got from the organization gave him a boost to his already large ego. 

"You know how much I really _hate_ being late for my special pretty little girls!" The Eggwoman were too dim to take note of the sarcasm in his voice. 

"Oh no, Javert!" A blonde one exclaimed, practically swooning with joy. "We only waited . . . Five minutes!" 

"Eeee! He called us special pretty girls!" Another blonde Eggwoman beamed, falling off the bench. "I have totally died and like, gone to heaven!" 

Without saying another word, Javert made a perfect shot to the SHUSH agent's head. The dogface died before he hit the ground. 

"What do vou think, girls?" He suavely asked with a French accent, proudly standing over the body. He bowed at their applaud and handed his gun over to the Weapon's Master. Yet _another life taken, and another kill to add to my count. I am ze best!_

"He is sooo handsome . . . !" A brunette girl squealed, watching him leave. "And so murderous! I love cruel men! You know I once went out with Negaduck." 

"Get ahold of yourself, Annette," a plump, dark brown haired Eggwoman muttered depressively. "Javert is SO out of our league! We wouldn't be able to get him in a million years." 

"True . . . " The brunette sighed, glumly looking down on the ground. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with dreaming." 

Leaving his googly-eyed fans to their drooling, Javert decided to check up on what was going on in the city. Passing by a parked car, he heard a radio's announcement about the agent's death.Somewhere in the report there was a mention that the agent was a family man. Only thirty-two years old as well, and had only begun working for SHUSH. _All the more wonderful of a loss!_

Since Steelbeak had been relocated to Duckburg for his own safety, Javert needed someone else to heckle relentlessly. That someone would be Darkwing Duck, a constant, nagging thorn in his organization's side. If Javert could assassinate him, the organization would be one step ahead of it's goal of taking over the city. When that would happen, it would be just a matter of time until they took over the world.   
  
_If it's danger he wants, it's danger he'll get! _ Javert spotted Darkwing atop of a tall building, arrogantly surveying "his" city. He was just out of shooting range, two more steps and Darkwing would be a dead duck. No big deal, though. If the relentless teenager wanted something really good to happen, he would wait for it. 

Pulling out a pair of binoculars, Darkwing looked down at the busy city street. It had been reported to him that the son of Siege was believed to have been the killer of the much-loved SHUSH agent. 

"There he is . . . " He muttered to himself, spotting Javert reading a newspaper. In a puff of blue smoke, Darkwing disappeared. 


	10. Jailbird

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Ten:   
The Jailbird 

  
  
  
  


"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the cat that leaves footprints on your car! I am Darkwiiiiiing Duck!" He announced, standing right behind the determined young villain. 

"You think a little smoke trick will intimidate moi? You seem to forget I am ze son of ze leader of F.O.W.L High Command!" Javert said with a snide tone as he turned around, his arms folded in annoyance. "I've heard a little about you, leetle purple punk with a big Napoleon complex!" 

_ Pah, as if I'm supposed to be afraid of THAT. _Darkwing was equally unintimidated by Javert's attitude. He merely whipped out his gas gun and straightened his fedora, making himself appear as important as possible. "It doesn't make a difference in the world if you are with the Fearsome Five or with F.O.W.L! A crook is a crook, and they _all_ fear the one and only daring Darkwing Duck!" 

"I don't fear you, neither does High Command!" Javert taunted, sharply poking Darkwing in the chest. He took one look at the gun, and laughed heartedly. Never in his short life had he saw such a ridiculous looking and harmless weapon. To him and the rest of F.O.W.L, the only good guns were the ones made to kill. 

"What's in ze gun, bonbons? Dog dung? Rotten henfruit?" He scoffed, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke in Darkwing's direction. 

"Were did you get it at, ze local second-hand toy store?" 

Coughing, Darkwing scowled bitterly at Javert. One of his pet peeves was underage smokers, and this gave him another reason to dislike the teenager. 

"Why? You want the collector's set? An exact replica?!" 

Just to be a pain, Javert blew another puff of cigarette smoke into his face. "No, so I can add it to ze world's most ridiculous inventions!" 

The crime fighter knew as much about Javert as Javert knew about him: very little. He was not just some kid who killed somebody on a whim - - this was this was an upstart serial murderer. He had dealt with young criminals before, and relatively speaking they were easy to take care of. The threat of going to jail was usually enough to keep them at bay from committing crimes. Javert, however, would prove to be an exception. 

"You'll soon see enough if you don't surrender silently, FOWL fiend!" Darkwing ordered, his voice a little strained from coughing. 

"Suck gas, or give yourself up!" 

"Suck gas?!" Javert laughed again, nearly buckling over. "What is next, lets all jump in ze pool and see how fast we can swim? C'mon, I dare you to pull ze trigger! Show me what you are made out of, big shot!" 

Sure enough, the young Indian Runner Duck got what he asked for. He reeled back as tear gas got into his eyes and kept them shut, attempting to drain out the itching substance. Itching and rubbing made it all the more worse. 

"I will get you for this, just you wait!" He growled, tears streaming down his face as he slowly opened his reddened eyes. Had be been a little younger and less proud of himself, he would've surely thrown a temper tantrum. 

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Javert! You could've gave yourself up, but nooooo!" Darkwing piped up, pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He nonchalantly approached Javert, unprepared for what would happen next. 

Javert reached a hand into a pocket in his pants and pulled out a small knife, slashing it at the crime fighter's throat. He had missed the jugular vein by an inch, but didn't miss the kick that Darkwing gave him. Clutching his stomach, he staggered back and rolled up his sleeves. 

"It takes a little more than a little kick to bring me to my knees!" He sneered, uneasily getting up onto his feet. Feeing ill at ease, he staggered over to the nearest garbage can and vomited up his lunch. Even for his own good Javert was unwiling to give himself in. He was too dedicated to F.O.W.L to let this happen, he had to be out and about, committing as many murders as possible. 

"I'm going to sue . . . " Javert moaned as he was quickly handcuffed and brought into to a police car. "I really, really hate you!" 

"Oh, I'm so hurt!" Darkwing replied sarcastically, waving to him as the vehicle drove off down the street. "Looking foward to seeing you in court!" 

The ride to the St. Canard Penitentiary was a humiliating one to Javert. He sunk out of view from passing cars, hoping that no one from his organization had spotted him. For the first time in ages he was at the poing of crying, for he had felt he had let down on his mother's expectations. 

"I can never show myself at FOWL again . . . " Javert whimpered. 

"Well, you won't be showing your face there for a while," the cop in the driver's steat grumbled at him. "We're not going easy on you just because your a kid. You took a life, numerous ones from what we gather."__

Hearing this, Javert bashed his head up against the window. "Damn, damn, DAMN!" 

"Go easy on the window or you'll be spending even more time behind bars!" The other cop snapped. "You're really asking for it today." 

When the police car arrived at the penitentiary, a Red-Tailed Hawk was responsible for brining in the thrashing scoundrel. In spite of his slender appearance, it took another jail guard to restrain Javert. A muscular German Shepherd came up and grabbed hold of his other arm and helped the avian take him to were he belonged. 

"Lets see if you cool down after spending a little time caged up!" The eagle grumbled, shoving the duck into the only empty cell. Sure, the cops probably woundn't miss the occassional slaughtered felon, but they didn't want to be responsible for cleaning up the blood. 

"Crazy kid . . . " The dog sighed, shaking his head as he walked down the aisle. "They're getting more violent these days. I can't help but to wonder what he would turn out to be like fifteen years down the road." 


	11. Getting Back on Track

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress   
  


Chapter Eleven:   
Getting Back on Track 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Javert was twenty-one by the time he was released from prison on good behavior. Those six long years behind bars hadn't the least changed his mind about leading a life of crime. If anything it intensified him, and the strict boot camp-style training the jail had proved to be useless. A few guards that were foolish enough to manhandle him were placed on his hit list to be taken care of sooner than later. 

There was nothing that could stop Javert, for he had gone too far into the realm of F.O.W.L to become anything more than a menace to society. 

Going through puberty had been kind to the murderer. Standing in at an impressive six feet, Javert had grown out of his teenage weediness and weighed in at a sinewy 165 pounds. He now resembled a leggy Darkwing Duck with similar facial features, but the similarity ended there. He was as closely related to the crime fighting buffoon as much as Launchpad was related to Grizlikoff. 

Shortly after he was released from his confinement, Javert headed on over to F.O.W.L Headquarters to check up on what he had missed over the years. Looking around he had noticed the place had been completely renovated to the point he couldn't recognize the place, and the Eggman who were out and about were wearing new silver and black uniforms. 

Many of the agents he had passed in the hallway were not at all familiar to him, and one agent in particular caught his eye. 

The agent was a short, squat raccoon who looked more like a school teacher than someone who worked for a criminal organization. Her hair was short and brown, and she appeared to be in her mid forties. Her name was Allie, and had been working with F.O.W.L for a number of years. He approached her calmly and authoritatively, shoulders back, head held high. He was here for answers, and not to have casual chit-chat with his mother's subordinates. 

_ I'll skip ze name exchange, get right down to ze questions . . ._

"My, what a handsome chap you've turned out to be!" She exclaimed with a wink, looking up at him. "Still after that Steelbeak, are you? He returned to St. Canard about two years ago, thought I'd let you know. He is such an overrated agent." 

Javert looked down at her coldly, and spoke in a robotic monotone. "Yes, yes I am still after him. Word has it that he has a family now. I might kill two birds with one stone. Or should I say, one bullet?" 

"Yes, he married that Victoria," Allie replied, filing her nails. "You know, that black-haired broad who lost her cousin at the Duckburg HQ? Medium height, nice built, brown eyes . . . Apparently her and Steelbeak had a daughter and named her Tatiana. " 

The name and description of Victoria wasn't at all familiar to Javert, nor did he recall hearing about any major explosion in Duckburg. 

"When was zis explosion? Ze only explosion I heard about was at some cement plant by ze jail I was unfortunate enough to be locked away in." 

"It happend a year ago," she shrugged, handing him a newspaper article of the event. "I'm surprised you haven't heard of it. Negaduck was involved in it for some reason or another. I don't know what his involvement was in it, didn't pay much attention to that detail. He was apparently killed in the explosion, but I saw him the other day robbing a bank without a problem. Not bad for a dead duck who got shot in the heart. I wouldn't have cared either way if he lived or died. He's like Steelbeak, always in the news, and way overrated." 

_What is she babbling about?_ The information about the infamous Lord of The Negaverse's survival was all very interesting, but irrelevant for Javert. Nonetheless, he was curious. Maybe Steelbeka has some connections with that, he thought. He took the paper and read through the article before handing it back. There was not even a mention of the rooster's involvement. 

"Zat's nice . . . When did Steelbeak and zat Victoria get married?" 

"Sometime during the same year," Allie replied, wondering if Javert was really just catching up on the old times or playing a game of Twenty Questions. "I've seen them talking in the halls a few times, caught them kissing while out on a mission and the next moment, they were hitched. " 

"Interesting . . . " Javert mused, plucking a stray feather off his cheek. "Anything else happen between ze rooster and ze organization? Criminally inquiring minds want to know." 

By now Allie felt intimidated by Javert's presence and stepped back from him. "Well, shortly before the wedding bells they nearly killed your mother and took over the spot of High Command. It was quite a battle, surprised no one was killed. Word has it that Steelbeak was literally foaming at the mouth in rage when the matriach pulled a knife out at his girl. " 

"HOW . . . DARE HE!" Javert growled, punching Allie right between the eyes in a bout of uncontrolled anger. "I will kill the bastard!" 

Words couldn't describe how Javert felt about his mother's life being nearly taken away. Not to mention, her being fored out of her rightful place. He curled his beak in a snarl, but ever slowly he smiled. He couldn't think of a better way to break Steelbeak's heart than to take away the person he loved the most. In his grief he would be in a weakened state, giving Javert an easy target. 

"Thank you . . . Whoever your name is!" He laughed, stepping over the half-conscious raccoon as he made his way out the building. 

"Just call me Allie," the raccoon groggily answered, watching him turn around the corner. "Good luck on committing suicide, Jav." 


	12. Meeting Keleen Vanderchill

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  


Chapter Twelve:   
Meeting Keleen Vanderchill 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Javert was just about to head out and take care of the Steelbeak business, but as he passed the F.O.W.L Ready Room a young she-duck had grabbed his attention. He placed his gun back into the holster and approached her, mistaking the woman at first for an intruder. For some reason or another, she was carrying a cage containing a large and fluffy white rabbit. With an unintentional irony, he had saved the life of his enemy by this distraction. 

_ What is zis? Bring your pet to work day? I could have stolen a Komodo Dragon from ze zoo if I knew zis. I need to check the memos . . ._

She looked like one tough cookie, who Javert guessed wasn't much younger or older than he was. Her hair was a deep reddish colour with white streaks in the bangs, and her eyes were a piercing ice blue. She had a few tattoos to add to her tough girl appearance, one of a dragon on her left arm and some wavy ones down both of her flanks. Her attire -- black jeans, purple tank top, dog collar, combat boots and fingerless gloves -- made her look like a punk on a mission. She lacked any resemblance to the well-dressed agents he often saw in the hallways. 

"Excuse me, who might you be?" Javert asked with suspicion, leaning his back up against a locker. "One of zem biker chicks looking to cause trouble?" 

_ Biker chicks? Hah!_

The girl let out a chuckle and replied with a cold tone. "I am the daughter of High Commander Jerold and daughter of Isis Vanderchill! The name is Keleen. I was accepted into F.O.W.L shortly before tin face and little miss firepower took over." 

Realizing this, Javert immediately became apologetic_. _He had so much respect for his mother's associates that he didn't even want to offend their relatives. "Sorry . . . Jumped to conclusions. Ze name is Javert Adair, son of High Command Matriarch, Seige." 

_ So this is the infamous Javert everyone's talking about! _Realizing who he was, Keleen cooled herself down and extended her hand out for him to shake. _Hrm, he's a son of a High Commander, he is sexy, and bad ass. Not to mention, he's a murderer. My favorite kind of guy!_

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Adair," she smiled, gradually warming up to him. "I appreciate a man who can murder and talk about it as if it were a walk in the park." 

"Keep up with ze praise, and my ego will simply burst!" Javert laughed. "What kind of things do you do villain-wise? Like, what are you really into when it comes to committing crimes?" 

"Allow me to demonstrate!" Keleen answered with a cruel grin. "I like to do things that involve drawing blood, such as this . . . " 

She reached into the cage and firmly grabbed the rabbit by the scruff of the neck. With a sly grin in Javert's direction, she approached a large tank containing a school of hungry piranhas and dropped the unfortunate animal in. Both villains watched as the water with red. 

"Impressive!" Javert crooned, following her out into the hallway. "I like your style already, Miss Vanderchill." 

Keleen shrugged her shoulders, flicking a chunk of rabbit fur off her shoulder. "Eh, It was nothing. Wait 'till you see me on the job." 

It was now that Javert wanted to know more about this Vanderchill lady. What was her upbringing like? Why did she become a villain? 

"I simply must know more about you, Ms. Keleen Vanderchill." 

Flattered, Keleen decided to let the cat out of the bag. "Alright, if you insist. My mother wanted me to be a become a beauty pageant star. I didn't live up to her expectations, and she abused me and starved me. Finally she abandoned me, and I was out on the streets when I was twelve years old. When I turned seventeen, I worked at a restaurant cleaning dishes. Between that crap job and studying, I took up combat training and joined F.O.W.L." 

For the first time in his life, Javert felt sympathy for another. He looked down at the ground, feeling bad for Keleen, and angry towards Keleen's mother. _How could she do zis to her? Keleen . . . Is such a beauty. When Steelbeak is taken care of, a certain Isis Vanderchill will be on my list to get rid of . . ._

"I'm sorry zis has happened . . . " 

"There's no need to feel bad. That was then, this is now," Keleen spoke with a cold tone to her voice. "Now what about you? Surely you have an impressively interesting background." 

"Non," he muttered indifferently. "My how-I-became a villain story isn't at all interesting, really. I didn't turn myself into water, or accidentally turned into a hybrid. I was always a villain." 

"Oh, that's bull!" She exclaimed, loud enough to attract the attention of a passing Eggman. With a quick glare, she sent him slowly edging away. 

"I can tell just by looking at you that you have had an fascinating background. I don't think you just signed up and decided to be one of us." 

"Alright, if you insist . . . " 

Javert did not know the whole truth into how he was originally brought in, but decided to tell her what he knew. "The guards of F.O.W.L brought me in when my mother abandoned me, and the High Command Matriarch adopted me. She raised me to who I am today, and did a very good job if I do say so myself! So much, in fact, that I would lay down my life to defend my organization. I am that devoted to it." 

"That is very noble of you, Javert," she spoke up with a nod, wanting to know more. "Not to make this sound like the Twenty Questions game, but . . . Just how did you develop such a hatred for Steelbeak?" 

"When I was four years old, he tripped me down the stairs," Javert growled, clenching his teeth at the very mention of the powerful poultry's codename. "From that day on, I hated his guts. I might not have been as mentally developed then as I am now, but I sure knew what hatred was. When I was ten, I had the joy of spilling his intestines on the floor and eleven years later I long to finish the job." 

Keleen's eyes narrowed into slits as Javert gave his reason. "I can't say I can't blame you for feeling that way. For some time I have had thought on taking on that rooster, to get back at him for stealing my father's job. If we can team up, maybe we can get rid of him once and for all." 

Javert liked the sound of this, and perhaps, for Keleen, he was more than just a menace to society.   



	13. I Couldn't Do It

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  


Chapter Thirteen:   
I Couldn't Do It 

  
  
  


The fiendish pair was on the path of revenge, and as it seemed, there would be nothing that would stop them. After some planning, Javert and Keleen got into a black Sedan and drove off into the night. Overly confident, Javert assumed all would go well. 

"24601 Jaybird Avenue?" Keleen asked coldly, looking through a few notes Javert had jotted down. "You'd think we'd be looking for Jean Valjean." 

"Good one!" Javert chuckled, running a hand through the feathers on his head. "You know, you're not a bad girl Vanderchill." 

"I'm not?" She asked with fake disappointment, pouting a little for effect. "In that case, I've got to work on being more badass." 

"Stick me with me and you will," Javert replied, looking into her eyes as they came to a red light. "I can assure you. My cruelty tends to rub off on people if I don't kill zem with it." 

"You know, you're cute in a serial murdering sort of way," Keleen said in a playfully sultry manner, twirling a lock of hair in her fingers. 

"I can't wait to see you in action tonight." 

"Why, thank you Keleen," Javert answered with pride, stopping the car as the Volatili residence came into view. "As for ze action, ze same can be said of you." 

After getting out of the car, Keleen clambered over the iron fence with feline agility. Her partner in crime snuck around to the back of the residence, cut the wire of the security alarm and hopped the fence. From there, the two quietly made their way in on opposite ends of the house, moving like shadows. Their professional training had paid off, but how long would it last? 

Javert took to the basement, where he would wait for Steelbeak. _Ze entire planning process took only five minutes, but I'll remember zis for a lifetime!_

In the kitchen, the twenty-five-year-old raven haired Victoria, was making herself a cappuccino. The Australian accented she-duck looked somewhat like Magica DeSpell, only prettier with her slender built and small, petite bill. She had a predatory air about her, and truth be told she was St. Canard's most notorious arsonist. In spite of her destructive ways, however, she was a loving mother and equally as devoted to her husband. 

On the floor next to her was Tatiana, an adorably chubby four year old. Her hair was short and blonde, and her feathers were only slightly lighter than her father's cornsilk colouration. Each expressive blue eye was encircled by a white patch, and her bill resembled that of a coot's. It was nearing her bedtime, and tiredly she snuggled up to her mother's legs. 

Only Steelbeak's girls were at home; the rooster was away at F.O.W.L HQ, doing High Command duties. Within half an hour he planned on getting back home to spend the rest of the night with his family. 

"Going to put you to bed in a moment, Tatty . . . " Victoria gently spoke to her, setting the drink down on the counter to cool down. 

A click of a gun caused Victoria to snap out of her relaxed state, and protectively she stood in front of her daughter. She stared intently at the female leaning in the doorway, aiming a gun right for her. She had always spirited by nature, and never allowed much to intimidate her. Now with a family she was especially quick to react to anything she though would present a danger. 

"Oh, look who it is, little miss Vanderchill," she said snidely, grabbing a steak knife from the utensil drawer. "What the bloody hell do you want?" 

"I have come to avenge the pain my father went through when you and your husband took their place," Keleen snarled. "Is that good enough of a reason for you, Missus I-must-burn-everything-in-sight? Surely you must know not to touch what doesn't belong to you. I've got news you, the same applies to jobs. You and your husband had no right to barge in and take over." 

"Last time I checked, mate, I was a villainess," Victoria scoffed, fearlessly holding her ground. "As such I take advantage of situations I put myself into and encounter. The old High Command had a weakness, and Steelbeak and I decided to take care of that. As you've seen, we've improved some things, like those Eggmen for example." 

"I could care less!" Keleen retorted, purposely flinging a ceramic figure off the table. "Whoops, silly me! I guess you want that to be replaced?" 

"OUT!" Ordered Victoria, feeling her tension rise to an uncontrollable level. "Would you like to see what'll happen when Mr. Match meets Miss. Gasoline?" 

"Pah, pyros," She chortled, reaching for the walkman when Javert spoke her name. "What is it, Javert? Do you have Steelbeak yet?" 

"Just shoot ze wrench, zen shoot ze daughter," Javert told her over her walkman. "Steelbeak will be here any moment. I'm ready for him. We'll be done before ten o'clock." 

"Say hello to your cousin!" Keleen spat out viciously, taking aim for the appropriately firey-tempered pyromaniac and fired once. 

"I'll kill you for that, bitch!" Victoria hissed, gripping a hand over the wound to her left side. She went to stab Keleen, but decided to stay by Tatiana's side in case she too would be shot at. 

"I like to see you try, wrench!" Keleen taunted, twirling her gun with one finger. "My father and Javert's mother will get their jobs back, you worthless piece of trash." 

All that remained for her to do was to get rid of Tatiana. She managed to find a spot on the child in which to shoot, but suddenly drew her gun away. She couldn't do it, not for anything in the world. Shooting Victoria was another, but she couldn't put herself to kill the innocent child. She felt shameful, and wished she could just pull the trigger. _Javert would hate me for not completing the job, and my father would surely be ashamed of me._

"I'm not going to hurt you little one . . . " She quietly spoke to Tatiana, kneeling down to her level. "You're way too cute to have your brains blown out." 

The small child hid behind her Victoria, who threateningly stared down at Keleen. "Mommy . . . Make her go away. She scares me." 

"I'm not going to hurt her, 'Tori," Keleen stated calmly to the mother, slowly getting to her feet. "You on the other hand . . . " 

"Don't hurt mommy!" Tatiana cried, stepping in front of Victoria. She pleadingly looked up at Keleen, hoping that she wouldn't pull the trigger again. 

I give up . . . Touched by the little girl's protectiveness of her mother, Keleen sighed and shook her head. "All right, I won't, you little rascal." 

Only for tonight, that is. Victoria, you will get what you rightly deserve. 

After waiting in the basement for Steelbeak, Javert headed upstairs when he heard the gun go off. He wanted to see what mess Keleen made of the two, and to help her dispose of the bodies. Much to his dislike, his partner had only wounded Victoria, and the crying Tatiana remained unharmed. _Just what is going on here? I thought zis woman was tough, like me!_

"Did I not tell you to shoot ze child? When it comes to F.O.W.L, zere is no room for going soft!" Javert growled, suddenly and roughly grabbing her by the right arm. He spat on her in disgust, unnerved by Keleen's disobedience. 

"You know ze rules of ze organization's operations, why did you not heed to zem?" He demanded in tone that made even Victoria uneasy. 

"I couldn't do it, Javert . . . " Keleen said with nervous honesty, cringing slightly and looking away from him in sadness. 

"I thought that's what happened," Javert growled, violently shoving her aside. "Unlike you I have no problem getting rid of hell spawn. If you can't do it, I will!" 

In the corner of his eyes, he saw Steelbeak's car pull up on the driveway. Perfect, daddy's home. 

Just as Victoria lead Tatiana into her bedroom, Javert salivated and tore across the kitchen. His mind was so set on murder that he could practically taste the blood of his victims. Yet, in his madness he managed to loose track of their location and he blindly tore through the house, foaming at the mouth. 

For the safety of her daughter, Victoria locked Tatiana's door and remained with her. She didn't put it past the two to get in through the window. 

"I won't let any harm come to you, my precious little sheila . . . " she spoke comfortingly, holding the frightened toddler close against her. 

Hearing the voice, Javert stopped in his tracks and suddenly calmed down. He kicked the door open, took aim for Tatiana and pulled the trigger. Remarkably, the wound she got was only a grazing wound, but in his state he had thought he killed her. 

"I'VE GOT HER, KELEEN, I'VE KILLED HER!" Javert yelled, laughing maniacally. A split second later, Victoria had grabbed him by the throat and started beating him with every inch of his life. He tried fighting back, but she was too fast, too fierce for even him to take on. He wisely beat a hasty retreat from the child's room, ducking a book being thrown at his head. 

_Oh, god no . . . I wish I had done something! _ Keleen kneeled down and cried, paying no attention to Steelbeak as he stormed into the house. 

* * *

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	14. Unsettled Scores

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  


Chapter Fourteen:   
Unsettled Scores 

  
  
  
  


As Steelbeak came into his house, he knew right away that something just wasn't right. The cause of his anxiety became apparent following a bullet that harmlessly pinged off his beak. It didn't take him long to figure out who shot at him, for the culprit calmly came up to him, sipping a glass of red wine. 

"What . . . Are youse doing?" He asked slowly, feeling an inner rage build up upon the very sight of Javert. "I don't remember invitin' youse over." 

"Welcome back. We were missing you!" Javert grinned, purposely bumping into him and spilling the wine on Steelbeak's white Armani jacket. 

"Sit down, relax, enjoy a nice bullet to ze brain! It will go well with that stain, you know. You wouldn't know it was there!" 

Another bullet was fired at Steelbeak's direction, and this as one struck him in the shoulder. Javert was so sure of himself that he bought only three bullets, thinking one each would suffice to wipe out the family. How wrong he was! 

"Youse 'ave made de woist mistake in your life, Frenchie!" Steelbeak growled, grabbing hold of the intruder by the collar of his shirt. Hearing his daughter cry out, he turned his attention toward her and released the trespasser. 

"I'll settle for ya later, Javert. Youse and I will meet again . . . " 

"Indeed we will, Steelbeak, and next time you and your family won't be so lucky . . . " Javert sneered, making a cowardly retreat into the Jacuzzi room. 

_ In yer dreams, Javert._

In the kitchen, Victoria held and comforted Tatiana while Keleen cleaned the wound. It was only the sight of his wounded daughter that had stopped Steelbeak from killing his mortal enemy. Family came first, crime and taking matters into his own hands came second. 

"Who did this? What 'append?" Steelbeak demanded, seeing the would the bullet had left. "When I find out who did dis, someone is gonna die!" 

"Javert . . . " Victoria replied through clenched teeth. "He came in here like he owned the place, shot me, then got Tatiana." 

"It's only a grazing wound, she'll be just fine!" Keleen explained to him, patting Tatiana on the head. She looked down at the small child who hugged her, and with her smile there was what looked like a tear in her eyes. 

The fury in the rooster's silver eyes had died down, and he bent down to kiss his toddler on the head. "Glad to hear it," he said gently, and then, suddenly, his anger returned with a vengeance. 

"Javert won't be okay when I'm t'rough wit' 'im . . . " He added, storming off into the direction of where Javert had gone into hiding. 

Two thoughts gnawed at Keleen's mind, both of them conflicting with one another. _ What am I to do? Should I stop Steelbeak and defend Javert? Or should I let him get what he may just deserve?_

"Wait . . . !" She cried out, hearing a fracas from down the hall. Quickly, she handed Tatiana back to her mother and ran down the hallway. She had decided to defend the young murderer, for all she wanted was to make things right between Javert and herself. 

Keleen had arrived in a scene of chaos, but just in the nick of time. There was a small amount of blood and scattered feathers on the deck, and in one corner Javert laid half-conscious. Steelbeak was strangling him with one hand, and on the verge snapping his head back with the other. On a cruel twist of fate, Javert the hunter was becoming Javert the victim; his confidence was getting the better of him. 

"Did I not tell youse to stay away from my family?!" Steelbeak roared, pounding Javert's head against the pool deck. A trickle of blood seeped from the back of his head and ran into the Jacuzzi's water. 

Keleen knew she had to act quickly, or loose her partner -- and potential soul mate. Without a concern for her own safety, she got right into the brawl and gave the rooster a direct kick to the kidneys. This didn't at all seem to phase him, and it was then that she had decided to go to drastic measures. She realized that Steelbeak had a family to protect, but also realized she didn't want Javert taken away from her for eternity. 

Using her ice creating powers, she produced a knife-shaped icicle and stabbed Steelbeak directly in the back with it. She held onto it tight as he thrashed about violently, and froze it in place. 

Steelbeak let out a horrifying howl of pain, immediately ceasing his attack. The yell was so unnerving to Keleen that she had frozen his beak shut to silence him. He tried desperately to pull the icicle out, but no avail. 

Quite suddenly Steelbeak felt a sharp pain to his chest, and dropped to his knees. He had suffered from a small heart attack, and his posture was that of defeat. Surrendering was one of the last things he would ever consider doing, but in the condition he was in he had no other option. 

"I can't stand to see an animal suffering, so . . . " Keleen scornfully glared at Steelbeak, looking away from the pain he was in. To ensure Victoria wouldn't help him, or so that he wouldn't make an escape, she froze the door shut. 

"Serves you right, you loathsome hyena . . . " Javert weakly groaned as his assistant bent down by his side. "What are you doing here, Vanderchill?" 

"I couldn't let you be killed!" She whispered, taking hold of one of his hands and bringing it up to her face. "I love you, Javert." 

"I . . . I don't know what to say, Keleen . . . " Never before had someone risked their life to save his, and genuinely Javert was awed by this. Yet, he showed little emotion expression-wise, for he hadn't wanted her to think he was going soft. It wouldn't matter to the world to her if he did, but he didn't know that. 

"No need to say anything," she smiled slightly, stroking the feathers atop of his head. "Just you take it easy, Javert. I love you." 

_I don't, for I can't. _ Javert remained silent at what Keleen had just told him. Romance and love were foreign to him, for it hadn't at all been part of his upbringing. To be honest with himself, he didn't know how to react to her saying this to him. 

Steadily Javert felt his strength return, and he slowly sat up. He watched as Keleen walked up to Steelbeak, and took this opportunity to retreat once more. For now, he would let her deal with the rooster. 

"Now, I'm going to deal with you . . . " She said coldly, approaching the Steelbeak in a predatorily slow manner. "Get up on your feet, I have some unsettled scores to deal with you. 

Dealing with Javert was one thing, but an ice-producing villainess was another. Steelbeak looked up at her, weary and feeling old before his time. He didn't want to die, not now that he had a family to look after. Too weak to stand, he pleadingly looked into her eyes, begging her not to take his life away just yet. 


	15. Not so Bad

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  


Chapter Fifteen:   
Not so Bad 

  
  
  


"Get up, I say!" Keleen barked, rapidly throwing a fist in the air. "Are you deaf as well as foolish? Get to your feet, chicken. Or I'll make you . . . " 

The sight of her raised hand had made Steelbeak shrink back in fear. Memories of his abusive past were rubbed into his face. He had learned to fear the raised hands of any dominant female, knowing all too well that they'd more likely than not strike him. The rooster's pleading eyes never left her's, and this expression alone had caused her to lower her arm. 

"Don't try to butter me up, I'm here for taking care of business. I want you to _never_ harm Javert, no matter what the circumstances!" She firmly told him, taking off the spell that melted the ice from the beak. With a second spell, she melted the icicle. 

Steelbeak, with his broad and sore back pressed up against the wall, groaned. He felt the water and blood trickling down his suit, and shivered. 

"Yes . . . I guess . . . But I don't get one t'ing. Am I not allowed to defend my family? He shot my daughter, fer god's sakes!" In spite of his vulnerable, pained state, he still felt the need to speak up against the unfair reasoning behind this. He was angry, yet afraid of her capabilities. 

"Dey mean so much to me, much more den F.O.W.L itself . . . If anyt'ing 'appens and Javert - " 

"Well, you'll have to think of better ways to go about protecting them that don't involve killing Javert!" Keleen cut in, with a snarl, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked down at the still kneeling rooster, trying to make him take her as seriously as possible 

"I can be reasonable as I can be cold. Promise not to harm him, and I'll go easy on you." 

Steelbeak heaved a sigh, looking away from her. He couldn't make this promise. He had a family to protect, and a position to keep. If he didn't break the promise, he might as well leave F.O.W.L dead in a body bag -- it was either him or Javert. 

"Isn't that right, Javert?" Keleen asked, looking over to the direction were Javert once stood. When she saw he was gone, she felt betrayed, abandoned. He had promised to her that he would stay with her until the mission was completed. 

_ How could he do this to me, to leave me alone, to settle with this rooster?! I loved him once, but I don't know what to think of him now . . ._

"Looks like I'll have to settle on you alone," she sighed, taking a seat on a bench. "Javert means everything to me, but I don't think he feels the same way toward me." 

_ Hrm, interestin' . . . _ Steelbeak tilted his head to one side, eager to know the reason behind her love for him. "Dat's Javert fer youse, 'e 'as no time fer anyone but 'imself. Just outta curiosity, why of all people did you give yer soul out to 'im? I don't t'ink 'e'd appreciate such a t'ing if it was t'rown in his face." 

"I have always wanted to be known here at FOWL. I wanted to be more than just a pretty face, and for a moment, he really did make me feel like a somebody . . . " Keleen answered calmly, taking her mind off revenge for the moment. There was sadness in her voice, and it didn't go unnoticed to the other F.O.W.L employee. Right now, she wasn't in the mood to kill anyone. 

"Ah . . . Dat's soitenly a familiar feelin'!" Steelbeak couldn't help but to get a feeling of deja-vu. When he joined F.O.W.L, it was Diamond, his first girlfriend, that made him feel like a somebody. 

"There's the whole cold-blooded killer thing about him. I'm attracted to cruel men, you see. Javert just seemed so right for me. I just wish he realized how much he means to me." 

"You didn't loose 'em now, ya know," Steelbeak said softly, slowly getting to his feet. He had taken sympathy on Vanderchill, for he knew of the cruelty that Javert was capable of, and understood what she was going through. A tried and true villain he may be, but it disgusted him how the son of High Command could just walk away on her. 

"Youse gotta get up and tell 'em what youse really feel about 'im. Look 'em right into 'is eyes, tell 'em straight you dat youse love 'em. If 'e can't believe youse, den . . . I 'ate to say it, but ya gotta look for someone who really does love youse." 

Wiping a tear from the corner of her eyes, Keleen smiled and gently touched him on the face. She expected him to flinch away, but that didn't happen. He merely stood before her, almost humbled by the gentleness she was showing him. 

She had felt bad for him for two reason. The first was causing him the pain he had recently went through, but she knew she had to defend Javert, so she forgave herself. The second was the fact that she knew it was difficult, if not impossible, to stop Javert from doing what he desperately wanted to do to the rooster. She couldn't forgive him for his vicious assault on her companion, but was slowly beginning to like him. 

"You know . . . You're not so bad," she said sincerely, lightly tickling him under the chin with one finger. "Come, lets get that wound taken care of before there's even more blood on the floor." 

"Me, not so bad?" Steelbeak scoffed. "I'm about as bad as all get out!" 

"I believe it!" Keleen winked. "In all seriousness, I have admired your F.O.W.L way. Tonight might not have been a good night for you to demonstrate that, but . . . It takes guts to work for that place. 

"Damn straight!" 

Trusting her, Steelbeak lead the Vanderchill girl down the hallway and into the bathroom. Victoria and Tatiana had since gone to bed, and he remained as quiet as possible. 

Watching the two through the bathroom window was Javert. As he watched Keleen take care of Steelbeak's wound, he came up with a devious plan. Perhaps if he could get her to really befriend the rooster, he would use her for live bait. There were so many ideas, so many possibilities, that he couldn't just settle on on just one. 

Carefully he watched the two speak, wishing he could read lip synching. Just by watching their expressions alone, Javert could tell the two villains were speaking about something deep. Each time he thought they would look toward their direction, he ducked. 

"T'anks, Kel, fer patchin' me up," Steelbeak said as the last bandage was applied over his back. "Yas really got me good dere." 

"Hah, if you think that's bad, you should've seen what I did to a flirting eggman!" With a wry smirk, Keleen gave him a quick kiss to the back of his neck as a show of gratitude. "No need to thank me, I need to thank you for your relationship advice. " 

"No prob, toots!" Steelbeak grinned. As she gave him a look of disapproval by being called that, he grinned sheepishly. 

"Bad 'abit of mine, I suppose." 

"Eh, I'll let it pass . . . " Shaking her head with a chuckle, she headed out of the bathroom. In the pit of her stomach she felt the dread of encountering Javert -- and her father. 

What would they think of her if she declined to seek revenge upon the rooster and his family, now that they were beginning to grow on her? Killing anyone else was fine, but something didn't set right with the whole family slaughter. Maybe, just to avoid the humiliation, she wold go ahead with it, even if she would feel guilty about it for the rest of her life. 

"Ah, Keleen! What a nice surprise to see you out here!" Javert called out to her, watching her come ut from the mansion.   
  
  
"Er, hi . . . " She responded somewhat nervously, wondering if she should come up to him or not. Not wanting to make herself appear to be a wimp, she approached him. 

"Did he lay a hand on you?" Asked Javert with genuine concern, rubbing a hand over a balled up fist. "Because if he did I will . . ." 

"No, no, he didn't hurt me at all," Keleen replied with a indifferent shrug, following him out to the car. "I just made it clear to him that if he touches you, he'll regret even blinking an eye." 

Taking her by surprise, Javert slung an arm around her as he escorted her into the vehicle. It was half affection, half just plain chummy. 

"Zat's my girl!"   
  



	16. The Interruption

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  


Chapter Sixteen:   
The Interruption 

  
  
  


It was midmorning when Keleen met up with Javert in F.O.W.L's cafeteria. The young male duck had a twist to his already evil idea -- if Keleen is to befriend Steelbeak, he'd have to have an idea behind it. After all, friends don't become friends for no reason. If they were to take over, and succeed, perhaps he can persuade the she-duck to take pity upon the rooster. 

Rumour had it that the new High Commanders were on their way to make St. Canard their turf. If Javert had anything to do with it, now would be the time to get the rightful employers back on duty. 

"My mother's been fretful lately," he said with a weary sigh, sitting down next to Keleen with a cranberry muffin and a cup of coffee. "Her health really hasn't been ze best, she's expected to undergo a second surgery for her back. I do hate seeing her mope. She is such a proud woman." 

"Can you blame her? My father's hand still doesn't work right," Keleen growled, taking a sip out of her coffee. "I must admit I did feel a little sorry for that pitiful Steelbeak last night. He seemed so . . . I don't know, helpless. He was like a hurt child who fell from his bike." 

"Very pathetic is a way to put it," Javert scoffed, tripping a passing agent with a trayful of food. "Did he cry and beg for his mommy?" 

"Well, not quite, but I could tell he was afraid of me," she explained with a light chuckle, finishing off her drink. "Yet, he was friendly, almost sweet, at the same time. I can't quite describe it, but how can anyone be courteous with anyone who had just stabbed you in the back with a shard of ice?" 

"He was being a sap is what he was being," Javert answered with arrogance, rolling his eyes. "A proper villain acts like a villain, all ze time. None of zis cuddly, sweet stuff. It just ruins ze reputation if any outside information got out! Very improper." 

"I wouldn't be so quick to call him a sap, Jav . . ." Keleen told him warningly, not forgetting last night's drama. "If I hadn't' been there - - " 

"Nonsense!" Javert laughed, slamming his coffee cup down onto the table. "He just happened to take hold of me when I least expected it. I would've got out of his grasp if I got hold of my pen knife." 

"If you say so!" Keleen shook her head, chuckling inwardly. "Gives me another reason to like you. You're so confident, so sure of yourself, maybe a bit too much sometimes but you're very smart. Those are rare qualities, there." 

Javert basked in the praise, holding his head up high as he stood up and started to walk out the cafeteria. Just before he headed out, he looked back at Keleen with a flirtative wink. 

"Oui . . . whoever said Steelbeak is the only one around here who has both brains and brawn? I'm not sure about you, but I'm ready for a little action today. My mother and your father will be getting their jobs back if it is ze last thing I do!" 

As endearing as she found his eagerness, Keleen was concerned for his safety. He nearly had his neck broken, what worse could happen next? She stood up as he marched out, and stepped out, blocking his path. 

"Keleen, as much as I really like you - - " 

"Y-You do?" Keleen asked nervously, a nervous catch to her voice. "You like me, more zen, er, then just another someone here?" 

"Yes." Javert replied in a sincere tone, nodding once. "I like you more than just another agent. Now, I have got to take care of something . . . " 

"I won't let you go at this whole revenge business alone, Javert," Keleen told him, still not letting him past. "It's just too dangerous. I'd hate you to be hurt, or worse . . . " 

Javert raised an eyebrow, looking back at her direction. "Why not? I've killed before. This time I have my gun with me. Nothing could go wrong!" 

"What about if they have backup? What about security?" Keleen asked, gripping hold of his sleeve. "I don't want to see you get killed." 

_Women sure are forceful at what zey want. _ With a groan, Javert gave into her persistence. "All right, all right. You can come along." 

"I knew you'd give in eventually," she smirked, giving him a quick kiss on the bill. "When we're done with the slaughter, lets say we hit the bars. I know just the one to head to first." 

"After a brief visit with the taxidermist!" Javert added, placing an arm around Keleen's waist. "A grim girl is hard to find zese days." 

"I can imagine . . . " Keleen murmured, shutting her eyes at the feel of his hands around her lithe body. "All that censorship these days, it's amazing you can still see beer commercials!" 

Not far away, behind closed doors of the High Command Chamber, Steelbeak and Victoria were preparing for an all-out terrorization on downtown St. Canard. The troops of Eggmen were already being sent out for scouting duties, and all that needed to be done was to give the agents their assignments. From there, it was only a matter of time until F.O.W.L was one step ahead of world domination. 

"We're gonna hit de police and fire stations foist, den take care o' de governmental figures. If de FBI or Dipwing try ta intervene, our boys will 'it 'em so fast dat dey'll be blasting bullets outta deir butts!" Steelbeak crooned, throwing a dart at a target of Darkwing Duck. 

Sitting on the rooster's lap was a most comfortable looking Victoria, resting her head against his chest. Both avians were sipping white wine, and both looked more than happy with themselves. After all, it's not every day that one can overthrow the mayor, destroy the proper authorities, and take over a metropolitan city. 

"Sounds fab to me, I especially like the idea of destroying the fire station!" Victoria spoke out with great enthusiasm, enthralled with finally getting rid of the bane of her existence. 

"I knew yas would love it! " Steelbeak smirked, pouring a little more wine into their glasses. "'ere's a toast to our success at de Fiendish Organization fer Woild Larceny!" 

Down a dark hallway, Javert pulled out his handgun. There was no telling who or what was lurking about, and for him it was better to shoot and ask questions later. He took aim for a security camera, and shot the lens off. He kissed his gun and placed it back in his hip holster. 

"Nice shot, handsome," Keleen said quietly, following him as he approached a heavy steel door. "I like a man who can handle his weapons well . . . " 

"How could you not?" Javert asked, waggling an eyebrow at his companion's sauciness. "When we're done, zere is something I must tell you!" 

On the door was a sign stating "No Trespassing Beyond This Point." Javert took one look at this sign and clicked his tongue against the roof of his bill. 

"People zese days . . . " 

With a snort, Keleen ripped the sign off the door and broke it with her knee. What was left of the sign was tossed over her right shoulder, accidentally hitting Javert in the head with one piece. "We're not doing any trespassing. We're just a couple of disgruntled F.O.W.L employees looking to get a few rightful jobs back!" 

"When you throw things, you have better aim than my shot!" Javert whined, rubbing his forehead. "Zat hurt like somezing else!" 

"Awww, I'm sorry, did I give you a boo-boo?" Keleen asked with mock concern, holding back a laugh. "Want me to kiss it better?" 

With a smile, Javert placed a finger under Keleen's bill and looked her in the eye. "How about after our little take over? I think I'll really deserve one after zat!" 

"Fine by me!" Keleen cheerfully responded, elbowing him in the ribs. "Anyway, are we going in or are we just going to stand here talking?" 

Had Steelbeak and Victoria been not so involved in their plot, they might have heard the muffled voices of the two fellow F.O.W.L workers. They had given out orders to the agents, and were now busily following their progress. 

"By crikey, I sure whipped those Eggman into shape!" Remarked Victoria, watching their action from a webcam that had been attached to one of their helmets. 

"Dat youse 'ad, 'Tori!" Steelbeak beamed, giving her a quick noogie. "It's all about yer spirit, babe. All dey needed was proper leadership, and youse gave it to 'em." 

Ever quietly, Javert opened the metal door and stepped inside. Keleen followed in closely, and both stood absolutely still as the High Commanders were busily typing in data on their laptops. They were still too heavily into their work that they didn't notice the audible squeak of the shoes or the footsteps of their boots. 

Javert advanced slowly, pointing his gun in their direction. There was a cruel, twisted grin on his face, and he fired just above their heads. It was enough to startle them and to make them turn around in their swivel chairs. 

"We hope we haven't interrupted anything important. I just hope you are enjoying your new positions!" 

With a defiant stare, Steelbeak protectively stood in front of Victoria. He knew the reason why Javert was here, and he readied himself for the fight of his lifetime. 

"I will not go down wit'out a fair fight." 


	17. The Fight

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  
  


Chapter Seventeen:   
The Fight 

  
  
  
  
  


"Looks like someone got lost while touring our facilities . . . " Victoria muttered to her partner in crime, giving the intruders a look of disgust. She tried to get a better look of them, but Steelbeak stubbornly stepped out in front of her. He was ready to take any bullets that might be sent in her direction. 

"C'mon mate, I just want a little peek!" Victoria playfully pleaded, giving him a poke to the small of his back. "I promise not to kill both of them. I'll let you off one." 

"Dat's not de reason I'm formin' a barricade in front of youse," Steelbeak said as seriously as he could. "I care too much about youse to see youse riddled wit' bullets. I'd lay my life down fer youse." 

"You take care of ze wife. I take care of ze rooster! " Javert whispered to his companion, feeling a surge of adrenaline rush through his veins. He wasn't quite ready to kill Steelbeak, but he was sure in the mood for a good fight with him. Knowing that violence breeds violence, he hoped for a blood feud tonight. 

"Fine . . . " Keleen whispered back, focusing on Victoria. "What's the matter, Steelie? Your little wrench of a wife can't defend herself?" She asked with a sneer, seeing Steelbeak block any possible way of getting a bullet into the other she-duck. 

"I'm more than capable, actually!" The Australian laughed, whipping out a handgun. She stepped out behind Steelbeak, and fired it at Vanderchill's direction. 

The bullet had struck Vanderchill in the shoulder, causing her to stumble back slightly with a pained grimace. Strange blue blood poured out through the wound, and the burning pain she felt made her all the more combative. If it was a fight Javert wanted with these two, she'd remain by his side and go to battle with him. 

"Now, who said I was defenseless?" Victoria asked, twirling her gun around on a finger. "You're bloody lucky my Firegun is out for servicing. Otherwise by now your mate would be attending to your cremation." 

"Oh, please!" Vanderchill scoffed, daring the other to fire again. "I suppose the next thing you'll want to do with me is to tie me up and burn me at the stake!" While she was busy arguing with Victoria, Steelbeak had sneaked past her, watching his mortal enemy with great intensity. 

"Keleen . . . !" Javert exclaimed with worry, inspecting the injury. By doing so, he had made his mistake by turning his back on his enemies. For a brief moment, killing the overgrown poultry and his family was not on his mind. 

"Zis is why I told you not to come along," Javert spoke worriedly, tearing a piece of cloth from his blue jacket. He   
dabbed the wound with it, and became especially concerned when he saw the colour of her blood. He didn't know this was normal for her. 

For someone who had been raised to hate was feeling anything but that right now. "I knew you would get hurt." 

"No, no, I'll be fine . . . Really!" Keleen shrugged, wanting to get on with getting her father's job back. "I've had much worse, no need to worry about me." 

Steelbeak took this moment to make his first attack. All two-hundred and ten pounds of him were flung onto Javert's back, pinning him down hard onto the floor. The duck winced, feeling a few of his ribs crack from under the rooster's massive body. He had broken three ribs, and it was remarkable that he hadn't broken any more. 

"Just before youse die, 'ere's a moral for youse -- nevah toin yer back on a rooster!" He rumbled, breathing heavily down his back. 

Without a thought of her own safety, Keleen leapt on top of Steelbeak, pounding at his back and tearing at his thick feathers. The rooster was successfully distracted away from Javert, and she deftly stayed out of his biting range. She had seen Javert sneak away, and held him by his comb as an attempt to keep Steelbeak's direction focused on her. Desperately Keleen tried to keep his head to the ground, but he was too strong for her. 

The rooster thrashed about violently, spinning around in a vicious, jaw-snapping whirlwind. He soon tired himself out, and Keleen took advantage of this. She clawed at his face, trying to gouge out his eyes when an attempt to strangle him failed. She could've easily generated ice to get an upper hand, but she was confident that her hand-in-hand combat skills would be good enough for now. 

Seeing her husband's predicament, Victoria grabbed Keleen by her long hair and viciously yanked her head back. She had managed to pull her off of her husband and pinned her up against a wall. Keleen kicked her away and a vicious fight between them broke out soon after. Feathers flew as the two she-ducks were sent tumbling about on the floor. Strands of hair were torn out, and each sported a black eye. 

While the girls were involved in their cat fight, Javert straightened his posture and circled the tiring Steelbeak. In spite of his injury he launched himself out at him, purposely letting himself get caught. He made a fake stunned reaction, letting Steelbeak throw some good hits in until he delivered a sharp abdominal punch. After that, he rolled away to catch his breath and wait for the rooster's next action. 

"I think that's enough of that, ice-girl!" Victoria warned, smacking Keleen upside the head with her handgun. Another hit sent Keleen falling to the ground where she remained deathly still. She stood over her fallen form proudly, feeling accomplished for defeating such a bold intruder. Quickly the pyromaniac gave her a kick, wanting to see if she was dead or not. 

"Foolish move you made there, mate!" She remarked with a baleful expression, seeing no movement from her. "I can be a nice girl when I feel like it, but guess what? You hurt my husband. When someone hurts my husband, I hurt them!" 

"Hands and feet off my Keleen!" Javert ordered, weakly aiming his gun for Victoria's head. "In my short life I have taken the life of one hundred and nine people. I'm willing to make you ze hundred and tenth!" He pulled the trigger, but it missed her by a foot as she jumped back. The bullet had hit one of the chairs, and he cursed in French for not being able to hit his intended target. 

The shadow of Steelbeak holding a chair approached him from behind, but he didn't notice until it became too late. The chair made a direct hit to the back of his head, and this combined with the throbbing pain to his rib cage was all too much for him. He collapsed onto the ground, out for the count. Once again, distraction got the better of him. 

_How dare he!_ Her anger billowing out of control, Keleen very suddenly and quickly jumped to her feet. She punched Victoria in the lower jaw, hard enough to knock out a few teeth. She sneered as her attacker recoiled in shock of suddenly coming to life. When F.O.W.L trains their agents, one of the things they learn is how to fake death realistically, and she proved to Victoria that she learnt this well. 

"I took you by surprise, didn't I? You should've listened to what Javert had to say!" She taunted, seeing a trickle of blood pour down from Victoria's feminine bill. 

The next move Keleen made toward her was a failed karate kick. Just a nanosecond before it came into contact with her, Victoria grabbed her foot and pushed her back into Steelbeak. He roughly grabbed hold of her by her dog collar, letting her go just before he'd get kneed in the crotch. He was too proud to admit he was fearful of her and simply acted out that he let her slip away by mistake. 

"Grab hold of her again. We're tying her up and throwing her into the Audubon Bay Bridge!" Victoria growled, spitting out the knocked out teeth in Keleen's direction. 

"Isn't dat a little cliche?" Steelbeak asked, smoothing his comb back with a hint of anxiousness. "I t'ought ya might've wanted to try somet'ing a little diff'rent wit' 'er." 

"Oh damn it, Steelbeak, just do it!" Victoria snarled, so fired up from the brawl that she had turned her aggressions out on her husband. 

"Better to what she said, mate!" Keleen mockingly scoffed, delivering a sharp undercut to the rooster's metal jaw as he   
made another grab for her. 

Steelbeak shied back, protecting his face by bringing a hand up to his face. As she advanced toward him, he stepped back. He had seen the dumfounded look on his wife's expression and slunk out of the room. He had silently called it a day. 

"I pity you for having such a cowardly husband," Keleen remarked, helping Javert stand as he started to stand. "Can't even properly keep hold of a girl for Christ sakes . . . " 

How dare you badmouth my husband! Seething at the insult, Victoria smacked Keleen across the face. Reacting in a protective manner, Javert swung a punch at her and managed to hit the same place that Keleen had. Victoria was out cold and a few more teeth were knocked out as well. 

"I'd love to see her dental bills after zis incident!" Javert laughed, dragging the black-haired duck with help from Keleen. Together they brought her out a back door and dumped the dame out into the cold November night. 


	18. An Encounter of The Eggman Kind

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  
  


Chapter Eighteen:   
An Encounter of The Eggman Kind 

  
  
  


After having their fighting wounds taken care of, Keleen and Javert split up to search for Steelbeak in the F.O.W.L facility. To avoid detection from vigilante crime fighters and police, the exterior of the headquarters was designed to look like an ordinary upper class apartment. The sheer size alone combined with a complex system of offices and departments made it a challenge to find even a large avian. Thanks to security cameras, they knew that Steelbeak was still in the building and possibly waiting for them in ambush. 

"Any sign of our favorite little game cock?" Javert asked over his walkie talkie, searching the upper portion of the huge F.O.W.L facility. He had passed by the Dental office and saw Victoria's teeth being looked after, but the pyromaniac was the least of his concern. 

"I haven't come upon a single feather," Keleen said with slight disappointment. "I wish I could report you back with something. If he knew what was good enough for him, he'd give in." 

"Hah, he doesn't know the meaning of the word!" Javert growled, looking at a bad bruise on his arm. "I'll tell you what. Instead of looking for him, how about we lure him into us?" 

"Sounds like a good idea . . . " Keleen replied, searching through the tunnel system. "How do you plan on doing this? Use Victoria and the kid and hold them hostage?" 

Sometimes classic methods worked the best for such experienced villains such as Javert, and he considered it. Yet, he went back to his old idea of using Keleen to mentally ensnare him in a trap. His feelings toward Keleen had changed, from merely thinking of her as just another F.O.W.L employee to actually loving her, and decided to tell her his plan instead of just using her. 

Javert passed through the busy laundry room, blowing cigarette smoke into whichever face was closest to him. "Well, Steelbeak has always been good with women, maybe - - " 

At the other end of the line was a laugh from Keleen. "Oh, you're not suggesting I pretend to be falling in love with him do you? I'm as much attracted to him as I am to that blanketed buffoon! I just wouldn't be able to pass it off well enough. According to my father, he's too smart for most mind games." 

"I had an even better idea!" Javert explained, keeping his voice low in case Steelbeak or an ally of him was listening in on the conversation. 

"Oh? Do tell . . . " By now, Keleen was more than intrigued by what he had in store. While talking to the seasoned murder, she came upon a telephone book that just happened to belong to the maligned menace. 

"I recently met a group of ex-Eggmen who had been badly treated by Steelbeak in the past," Javert explained, sneaking into an empty, unused room. "They have been looking to get revenge on him for months, but haven't been unable for reasons they never told me. 

"Interesting . . . " Keleen murmured, flipping through the pages of the book. Several names accompied by phone numbers have been crossed out, including one for her mother's. 

Javert's twisted mind was getting all the more cruel and twisted, for he knew his girl loved it. "I was thinking maybe perhaps I can have them search him out and make their attack. Wound him badly, but not mortally!" 

"Yes . . . Wouldn't want them doing what you wanted for years!" When it came clear to Keleen that Steelbeak wasn't hiding anywhere in the cellar, she made her way back up the stairs. 

"Non! I was thinking that perhaps if he was wounded enough, you can pretend to become sympathetic to him," Javert suggested, hearing footsteps from outside the room. "I admit to watching you take care of his wounds ze other night. Zere is a soft spot in him, and it's eventually going to become his ultimate downfall if he isn't careful." 

"I'll go with it," Keleen said after a brief moment of silence as she thought it over. "Steelbeak might see through it, but I'll give it a try." 

"Excellent!" Clicking his walkman off, Javert strolled down the hallways of the were he met up with Keleen. She was leaning up against a wall, dressed in a black dress. 

"Ready for our celebration?" She asked with a wry smirk, heading out the back door which lead out into the parking lot. 

Meanwhile, Steelbeak had found his wounded wife in F.O.W.L's very own onsite hospital. He had been worried about her, especially after the fairly brutal scuffle in the High Command Chamber Office. Thanks to a passing agent of middle class, he was able to find her. 

"Steelbeak . . . Are you all right?" Victoria quietly called out to him. She was laying in a cot, recovering from anesthetic after a surgery to repair her teeth. This was a rare moment in which she placid and vulnerable. 

The sight of his wife in an unusually calm mood had softened a hardened expression upon his face. The fight was too fresh in his mind, and he was still very much on his guard. He bent down to her bedside, stroking her hair carefully as if she was made out of glass. 

"Yes, I'm fine, but what about youse? What did dey do to youse?" He asked, giving her a kiss on her ghost-white cheek. His silver eyes flitted about, half-expecting either Keleen or Javert to leap out and attack him. 

Exhaling with a slight shudder, Victoria smiling as she saw Tatiana and her husband by her side. "Oh, they knocked some teeth out, dragged me out into the cold when I was out like a light. Not before I got a good scrap in, mind you." 

"Are you going to be better, mommy?" Tatiana asked, crawling into the cot to be cuddle up to her overprotective mother. 

"Of course, dear! Why wouldn't I?" Victoria laughed, sitting up to give her little girl a tight hug. "I just got a bit scuffed up. I'll be fine in no time!" 

A small band of Eggman made their way into the hospital room, and neither of the three took any special notice to them. They were often wounded and killed on duty, so their presence alone wasn't suspicious. Appearance wise they also looked like the others, sporting new silver and black suits that came with the rein of Victoria and Steelbeak. The tallest of them all was the first to approach. 

"Awww . . . How sweet! Ya got the daddy, the mommy, and even the little baby! All that is missing is the family Golden Retriever, the SUV and the Mickey Mouse ears!" The leader of the lot commented in a greatly exaggerated sweet tone, hugging himself. 

Steelbeak spun around, putting himself on the defensive once more. He hadn't brought his gun with him when he stopped in to visit his wife, but at the moment he rather wish he did. These were rouge Eggman, and knew the leader of the group all too well. 

"Keep it up, guys, and you'll rot my teeth out!" Another Eggman taunted, this one speaking with a noticeable hiss to his voice. 

"Why did youse come 'ere? I kicked youse out months ago!" Steelbeak demanded, protectively standing in front of his wife and child. 

"Aren't we entitled for a visit after you starved us from full pay?" Asked Basil, the shortest of the Eggman and "second in command" to Tyrone. He pretended to sound hurt from Steelbeak's order, cringing back to make it look like he was truly intimidated. 

"No . . . Tell me why's I should let youse live . . ." Steelbeak let out a deep and audible growl from his chest, staring him down. 

"If you knew what was good for you, I suggest you hightail it out of here, mate!" Victoria flatly suggested, keeping a firm grip on Tatiana. She would be surprised if they hadn't even attempted to steal her away. 

Tyrone slipped back from the rest of the group, and with a nod his cronies made their attack upon Steelbeak. Victoria grabbed a scalpel and rushed at the group, slashing and stabbing as many Eggmen as possible. She momentarily left her child unattended, but the Eggmen were so involved in the assault that they paid no attention to her. 

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Tyrone demanded, violently pulling her off of one of his men. He kept her away from his face and grabbed her scalpel, holding it up to her narrow throat. Even this didn't frighten her, and she bit down on his hand. 

"You little cuss" He hissed, letting Victoria go and dropping the surgical appliance. He tried smacking her in the face but instead received a direct and well deserved kick to the groin. 

"Great lummox . . . " Victoria growled, watching him hobbled away along with the rest of his men. It didn't take her long to figure out the cause of their sudden departure, and she did what she could to comfort her crying daughter. 


	19. The Start of A Dangerous Friendship

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  
  


Chapter Nineteen:   
The Start of A Dangerous Friendship 

  
  
  


Lying before Victoria in a miserable heap was Steelbeak with his right leg twisted in an unnatural angle. He looked up at her as if to beg for her to be put out of his misery, but she wouldn't do any of the sort. She got out of her hospital cot and knelt down beside him, tearing off what was left of the pant's leg. Underneath the clothing was the worst compound fracture she had ever seen in her life. 

"Mommy, what's wrong?" Tatiana asked, not seeing what had happened to her father. She had a brief look at the injury and looked away with a whimper. 

"Daddy's hurt, but don't worry, he'll get fixed up in no time, just like last time!" Victoria remained optimistic for the sake of the child, and for her husband. Both were just as bad as each another for picking up on worried feelings. 

A shard of a broken femur had sliced through his flesh, causing unbelievable pain. With a look of desperation, Steelbeak gripped hold of his wife's hand as she tried to stop the bleeding. With his other hand, he grabbed her by her shoulder, firmly turning her around to face him. 

"I want youse and Tatty to leave St. Canard right away. Dey'll be back, I don't want youse in jeopardy in case dey target youse next!" He warned her in a strained voice, trying to get up to stand on his good leg. He looked into her dark eyes, patiently awaiting to hear a response from her. 

"Nonsense, mate!" Victoria said in a cheery voice, helping him into the bed. She had no qualms dealing with a few reckless rouges, even after seeing what they had done to the rooster. She wanted revenge for their wanton attack in any way possible. 

"I've trained those Eggmen, let me handle them. I'm sure I can - " 

"JUST GO!" He shouted, causing her to jump back in fright. Seeing her reaction, he immediately became apologetic and calmed down from his outburst. He had also spooked his daughter slightly, and he ruffled her hair to reassure he was no longer feeling angry. 

"I'm sorry, it's jus' . . . I wouldn't want dem to get ahold of my most favorite goils in da woild. I know yer a better fighter den I am, but what if dey take youse by surprise while yer asleep and take Tatiana? Wit' dem around anyt'ing could 'appen. Much woise t'ings could 'appen to youse den what 'append to me. " 

Steelbeak's second warning sent reality home to Victoria. Holding back tears, she slowly gave Steelbeak a gentle hug. In spite of being racked with pain, he gave her a embrace in return that was twice as strong as hers. 

"You're quite the stubborn chook, aren't you?" She asked with a small smile, feeling herself relax in his arms. The smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and she let out a sigh as she thought of Tatiana without her father around. How could she explain all this to her? Just how could she tell her that seemingly half the world wanted him dead? 

"What's wrong?" Steelbeak asked, slipping a hand down the back of her shirt. To ease her mind, he gave her a light shoulder massage. 

"Never say goodbye, babe. As soon as I get t'ings straightened out 'ere, we'll see each other again, probably even before dis week's over. Javert's jus' tryin' to get back into power ta show off to 'is new goil, I ain't much worried about 'im." 

Feeling her taut muscles relax, Victoria closed her eyes and took in the good vibes that the massage had brought her. The smile returned, and with it, her worry was fading away. _All will be well._

_Could this get any sappier?_ Keleen watched from the hospital room's window as the nurses took Steelbeak in for surgery. She groaned as she watched Tatiana cling to her father, unable to part with him even for his own good. 

"Tatty, please, your father must have this surgery! Without it, he may die!" Victoria exclaimed, taking a firm grip on the girl's arm and pulling her back. 

Tatiana suddenly obeyed her mother. Victoria picked her up and held her up to Steelbeak just before he was helped into a room in the back. 

"Bye, bye, daddy, I love you!" She said softly, giving him a little kiss on the forehead. She received a kiss and a metallic, cold nuzzle in return and she giggled at the feel this brought her. Most people wold cringe at it, but Tatiana was delighted. 

"Good luck, mate. I'm sure you're all kissed out by now, but . . . " Victoria gave her husband the best smile she could make, and gave him a peck on the beak. 

Outside, Keleen jumped a little as she felt a light tap to her back. She exhaled with relief when she found it was only her beloved Javert, and for his sakes she was glad he missed out on the cuddly-sweet stuff. He hated that stuff as much as Ample Grime hated cleanliness. 

"So, how bad was ze attack?" Javert inquired, looking through the window. "I see zere is some blood. I hope ze rooster didn't kill any of zem." 

Keleen watched the entire fight take place, and was more than happy to give him an insight on what had happened. "It was beautiful! Too bad you weren't there. Steelbeak and Tyrone had a standoff, and then bang! They were all atop of him, tearing out chunks of his feathers and ripping that lovely suit into shreds. Little Basil broke his leg with just one snap!" 

"Did you take any pictures?" Javert asked proudly, more than satisfied with what his cronies had done to Steelbeak. At the moment, he couldn't be any happier. His plan was working, and things were just going to get better, or worse, depending on whose side you were rooting for. 

"Fear not," Keleen grinned, showing him a miniature digital camera. "I'll load them up at the computer, maybe put some up over the Internet. Blackmail's old hat, but it sure is fun!" 

"That it is!" Javert beamed, walking arm-in-arm with Keleen as they re-entered the Headquarters. They made a beeline straight for the computer room, shooing everyone out as they stormed their way in. 

As she loaded the computer, Keleen practically fidgeted with anticipation of Javert's reaction to the pictures. As soon as Windows' desktop was loaded, she inserted the floppy disk and went straight to the picture editing software. A dozen photos of the Eggmen making their attack upon Steelbeak were displayed on the screen. 

Javert hovered behind her with a wonderfully sinister grin as the pictures were loaded on the screen. The more he saw the violence unfold, the more he was ready for a second round with the rooster. "Oooh, zese are good! I knew someday zose Eggmen would be of use to me." 

Hours past, and Steelbeak was slowly beginning to wake up from the anesthetic. Bleary eyed and doped up with painkillers, he was far from being himself. He found comfort in the form of his family, but his leg would never again be the same. He would forever have a limp, and the doctors told him that it would only be a matter of time until arthritis would set in. 

"Dey said I must never run," Steelbeak wearily told Victoria as she sat at the edge of his bed. "Runnin' from de law is outta de question, and wit' it, chasin' Tatty jus' in play or catchin' er just before she goes out into de road. I'll be a cripple." 

The combination of medication and stress had undoubtedly affected his train of thought. Even then, Victoria wanted to keep him staying positive about his recovery. 

"Doctors aren't always right. You'll be back to your old self in no time. You've recovered from getting hit by trucks, cars, a near drowning -- " 

"Dat was a lifetime ago, Victoria," Steelbeak cut in, his eyes saddened. "I'm not like what I used ta be. My reaction's slower, maybe I should look into retirement." 

"You're only forty! Stop talking like this!" Victoria shouted, making it clear she wouldn't allow him to slip into a realm of self-contempt. 

"Okay, okay, youse win!" Steelbeak sheepishly replied, grinning for the first time since his vicious attack. "Dang mid-life crisis. Anyway, youse two should be off now. Dey're probably lurking about in de HQ as we's speak." 

While her husband was in surgery, Victoria had explained to Tatiana their reason for leaving St. Canard. The three birds got their last cuddles in, and Steelbeak watched them leave with his eyes misted over. Never before had anyone shown so much compassion toward him. 

Keleen stepped into his recovery room, and it was only when she spoke with well-convinced sympathy that he took notice of her. 

"I heard about what happened, I'm so sorry . . . " 

Mistaking her voice for Victoria's, he turned his head around to look at the approaching she-duck. When he saw it was Keleen, he quickly looked way. The fear he had for her was enough to make him not look at her, and to cover this fear he acted casual and calm as usual. 

"Eh, it was nothing, really." 

Steelbeak may be a master of faking emotions, but Keleen caught hold of his fear before he could hide it. As she approached the bed, he looked at a far wall as if pretending to be distracted by something on it. "Eh, I've been in much woise shape before." 

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?" Keleen asked softly, taking the risk of getting bitten by reaching out and touching his face. Her hand was as cold as his beak, and the rooster flinched back slightly. 

_Uh-oh! Dere's no way out dis time, Steels. No show of courage or attitude will woik now. Admit yer fears, ya old troublemaker, or she'll jus' keep pressurin' youse about it._

"Yes . . . Very much so," Steelbeak finally looked up to Keleen, letting her know what he had said was the truth. "Ya kin laugh at me now, I betcha ya t'ink I'm jus' some sort of big wuss." 

Those silver eyes that looked up at her were every bit intelligent and beautiful as Javert's. There was a lot of soul in them as well, and once again she felt guilty for aiding her companion in his quest to destroy Steelbeak. She was beginning to feel a twinge of genuine sympathy for this creature. Perhaps pretending to befriend him wouldn't be such a hard act to follow. 

"Well, there's no need to now," Keleen said in the same soft and comforting voice, stroking his comb back. "I promise to hurt you no more. I . . . Want to befriend you. I know we've had our difficulties, but that's all in the past. I want to start afresh, get to know each other more and maybe I can help you get back to your former glory." 

She held her hand out for him to shake. "Give me a chance, and I'll give you one right in return. As for Javert, he and I have become really close lately. I'm sure I can keep him distracted away from you with my bad girl self!" 

For Steelbeak, her offer of friendship sounded all too good to be true. She seemed too sympathetic, too gentle for someone who thought Javert was the best thing on two legs. Yet, he enjoyed having more friends around and would give just about anything to be the living F.O.W.L legend he once was. 

Blissfully unaware this was the beginning of a dangerous friendship, Steelbeak shook her hand. "I normally don't make friends wit' my enemies, but yer okay!" 


	20. The Final Confrontation

The Makings of A Killer   
by Roaming Tigress and Shelley Inks, creator of Keleen Vanderchill   
  
  


Chapter Twenty:   
The Final Confrontation 

  
  
  
  


Javert secretly watched as Keleen and Victoria helped Steelbeak through his long road to recovery. To his delight, the lure of friendship was working. Keleen's act was becoming more and more realistic each and every day, and the kingpin of F.O.W.L-dom was one step closer to the trap. Steelbeak had got over the fear he had for his girl, and acted as though he had known her for a lifetime. Absolute trust was what exactly as he had in mind, helping Javert's   
horrible dream to soon become a reality. 

Killing wasn't the only thing going on in Javert's life. He had proposed to Keleen Vanderchill, and not surprisingly she accepted it. From now on, he would be living on easy street. 

"You've done wonders with zat rooster, Keleen. He hasn't suspected a thing!" Javert joyously told her, passing by her on the way out to the parking lot. "I think we can take him down tonight. I've waited so long to do this. I cannot wait another day!" 

Keleen's sliver of sympathy for Steelbeak disappeared for a moment. Her eyes lit up at the visuals of murder, for it had been some time since she was involved in a good slaughterfest. She wanted nothing more than to impress Javert, especially now since she was engaged to him. Her father was in ill health lately, and should he pass on anytime soon, she hoped he would live to see the day his attacker would come to justice. 

Her grin disappeared as Keleen remembered how much reluctant the rooster was to give up trying to remain High Command. His pride had fallen a notch, and couldn't help but to offer what comfort she had. How could she kill someone who she had hugged and promised to befriend? She hid this feeling from her fiancé, and instantly snapped back to her evil side. 

"Impatient, are we?" She teasingly asked Javert, giving him a poke in the ribs. "So, how do we propose to do it? Bullet to the head? Brutal stabbing? Poison?" 

"Bullet to ze head. Poison has no effect on him, and he can stab us as quickly as we can stab him!" Javert quickly replied, holding his handgun out into moonlight. He aimed it for the moon, and fired. A waste of a bullet perhaps, but he had to shoot something to feed his killer instinct. 

"And what about Victoria? I'll take care of her if you want, I know just how much you want that cock!" Keleen said with a saucy grin. 

Javert slipped into the car after Keleen got into the driver's side. As she drove off, he polished his handgun and randomly shot out at a pedestrian. He replaced the bullets and comfortably leaned back into the car seat, envisioning what this spring night may bring. 

"You can take care of her and ze child. Do what you want with them, but be imaginative! Try something you haven't done before. Smash 'Tori's skull open with a meat cleaver, feed Tatiana through a garbage disposal unit." 

_He just had to mention Tatiana!_ Keleen looked away for a moment, heaving a heartened sigh. "You know I can't hurt her, Javert. As soon as we're done, lets just take her to an orphanage. She's a cute little kid, and well-behaved. I know someone will adopt her as quickly as she comes in." 

"Sure . . . " Inwardly, Javert rolled his eyes. He had thought she would have got over her soft spot for the child, but apparently she hadn't. 

Five minutes later, the pair pulled up into the parking lot of a stylish nightclub. A red neon sign over the entrance read "The Rooster's Den," and the place was practically abandoned. There were only four other parked vehicles including theirs, and only about ten people inside. Normally it was next to impossible to get in, and it seemed the nightclub's patrons knew something bad would happen. 

After quietly getting out of the car, the two walked arm-in-arm toward the nightclub. In spite of their air of confidence, their hearts were practically pounding out of their rib cages. It seemed all too real to Javert for this night to come at last, and he had to have Keleen pinch him to make him realize he wasn't dreaming. They stopped just outside the doorway and out of the view of the candle-lighting Victoria. 

"I'll leave you here, Keleen. You just go in, I'll come in at about half an hour," Javert instructed, feeling the urge to kill to become uncontrollable. "Keep him busy, amuse him and from zere I'll do ze rest. I'll shoot Steelbeak so quickly he won't know what will hit him!" 

"No problem," Keleen answered with a devilish smirk, running a finger down his chest. "What are you going to do in the meantime?" 

Javert tossed his handgun in the air and grabbed it just before it hit the ground. "Oh I'll think of something. Maybe I'll kill a citizen or two, to distract ze police away." 

"Good thinking!" Keleen nodded quickly, looking back at him as she entered the nightclub. "The diversions should keep the pigs busy." 

The moment she stepped inside, Steelbeak greeted her in his usual suave manner. He escorted her to a center table, limping as he went. In spite of this, he managed to keep up his proud stance that he had before the attack. Keleen couldn't help but to notice how much it slowed him down, and knew Javert would take advantage of this. 

"I 'ope youse enjoy yer this evening, Miss Vanderchill," Steelbeak said with a graceful bow, handing her a menu. "De best chef''s in de 'ouse tonight, and Ella Marten will be preforming. Foist of all, may I interest youse in some wine?" 

"I'd love that, Steelbeak. Thank you!" Keleen replied, using her most charming smile. "As for the kind, just surprise me!" 

"Sure t'ing!" Steelbeak beamed, nodding once before making his way into the spotless kitchen. After a quick Italian chit-chat with the chef, he brought out a bottle of sparkling wine imported from Greece. 

"Oooh, that looks nice!" Keleen exclaimed, watching as the drink poured into her glass. A sip revealed that it was as tasty as it looked. 

"Glad yas like it!" The rooster smiled, subtly shifting his weight onto his good leg. "Now, what would yas like to eat tonight? Stir-fried venison's de special tonight." 

"Hrm . . . That sounds interesting . . . " Keleen spent a moment reading over the menu, then looked back at him. "I think I'll have that tonight. I do like the sounds of the rare steak dinner, but before I make a real decision, what kind of venison is used in the stir-fry? Whitetail? Blacktail? Mule Deer?" 

"Neither!" Steelbeak answered with distaste. "We's only use Fallow. Imported right from Europe, usin' only de choicest cuts!" 

"Choosy, are we?" Amused by his look of disgust, Keleen laughed out loud. "Well, the stir-fry dish certainly sounds decently exotic enough. I think I'll give it a try!" 

"You can't find a finer game meat, mate!" Victoria said, overhearing her conversation with her husband. She had finished lighting the candles and took hold of Tatiana just before she tripped over her own feet. 

"Not as flavorsome as kangaroo or impala, mind you, but better than that native deer rubbish." 

A quarter of a mile away, perched up in a maple tree, Javert watched the inspector of police patrol the city park. He was a middle aged and burly bear who repeatedly tried to bring in the French-accented duck. After months of frustration he finally gave up, even if it meant putting the public at risk with having him always on the prowl. He figured Darkwing Duck would take care of him, but Javert was too stealthy and secretive even for him. 

Due to the incompetence of the police, assassinations soon became an everyday occurrence in St. Canard. There were far too many to be caused by the usual suspects -- Negaduck, Steelbeak, any of the Fearsome Four. They also had a particular pattern in the killings. The bullet wounds found in bodies almost always clean and found only in specific parts, generally the front of the head, sometimes the jugular but nothing lower. 

The other six villains were more random with what they did with their victims. Negaduck more or less mutilated his victims in any way he saw fit, and the rooster's prey was generally found riddled with machine gun fire. The Liquidator tended to drown his victims, and Bushroot preferred vine strangulation. Darkwing Duck investigated the matter but was at a loss of who exactly did the killings. He suspected it was Javert, but needed concrete evidence. 

"Come on, tubby, just a couple more feet . . . " Javert muttered, watching him trudge about through his binoculars. Finally when he came within range, he pulled the trigger and jumped down from his perch. 

"One down, another to go!" 

At the Rooster's Den, Keleen was patiently waiting for her meal. To keep her company, Steelbeak decided to stick around while Victoria went into town to release her pyromaniac desires. Tatiana toddled about, a little tired but still enjoyed hanging out with the two. 

"Fiery by crime, fiery by nature!" Steelbeak said with an arrogant smile, seeing the tower of a tall building up in flames. He was as proud of her reputation just as much as she was. 

"Oh, she's a scrapper, all right!" Keleen replied, quickly checking her watch. More than half an hour had past, and Javert still hadn't shown himself. 

_ Just where is he? I hope he hasn't been caught by police, or managed to trap himself in a building that 'Tori set. _ Keleen turned her head towards the nightclub's entrance, noticing a figure in a black trench coat walk in. At first she didn't recognize who it was, but her anxieties were eased as a clap of lightening gave away the black spot over his eye. She tried not to look at him too much, knowing if she did she would attract to rooster's attention toward him. 

_Oooh, look what he brought along!_ From the corner of her eyes, Keleen watched Javert reach a hand into his coat. He pulled out his latest toy, an 8 MM Mauser. By the time he arrived, the remaining nightclub goers had left. 

Memories of Javert shooting his daughter were all too fresh in Steelbeak's mind. He protectively stood in front of the child, and while keeping an eye on him he grabbed a steak knife off the table. A gun was in his jacket, but the time it would take to pull it out, Javert would have got a bullet into him first. His foe had better aim than he did, and he was a little jealous of this. 

"You're not welcome 'ere . . . " Steelbeak growled, taking a step toward Javert. His threatening body language diminished as he suddenly winced and fell down onto his bad leg. 

Keleen had generated a sword made out of ice and slashed it across his back, directly where she had stabbed him before. She had thoughts of impaling him with it, but didn't want to steal Javert's thunder. If she killed him, she would leave Javert with one less fun thing to do. 

"Wonderful night, isn't it, Steelbeak? Too bad it's your last!" Javert hissed, taking aim straight between the eyes. With shaky hands, he pulled the trigger and fired. 

"DADDY!" Tatiana shrieked, taking cover from under one of the tables. 

With an anguished sound resembling that of a roar, Steelbeak crashed to the ground in front of his daughter. The bullet had torn through a metal plate in his skull, blew through the bone and exposed part of the brain. It all happened so quickly that he felt no pain, and slowly he felt his life drain away. There was no miracle in the world that could help him now, but he tenaciously clung onto what he had left. 

"Daddy, get up!" Crying hysterically, Tatiana threw her chubby arms around his neck and clung on. She helplessly looked up at the people responsible for his horrible wounds, but found no comfort in their blank expressions. 

Tears streamed down Steelbeak's blood-soaked face. He couldn't bear to think of Tatiana growing up without a dad, or Victoria living life as a widow. It's gonna be curtains fer me, but I don't want my favorite goils to know I'm gonna give up. He tried hoisting himself up, but collapsed. 

"I'm sorry, hon . . . I . . . Can't do it . . . " He quietly sobbed, using his last strength to place around Tatiana. Never before had he felt so defeated and betrayed. Over time, he had come to befriend Keleen but she in turn had literally stabbed him in the back for it. 

Remarkably, Javert remained strangely calm. He refrained from breaking into cheer, and instead quietly celebrated his success with a glass of wine. He couldn't quite make out how he felt at the moment. Perhaps he thought that his enemy would remain invincible, or that he was dreaming again. Whatever the case may be, he looked away from the plight unfolding before him. 

The strange calmness was shared by Keleen. Instead of looking away, she couldn't take her eyes off the scene in front of her. She found it morbidly fascinating, victorious, and sad all at once. 

"Valentino!" Victoria cried out, bursting through the nightclub's front entrance. From outside, she had seen him lying on the ground in a prone position and immediately rushed in to see what the matter was. She paid no attention to Javert, and it was just as well. 

"I . . . I love youse, Tatiana . . . Tori . . . " Steelbeak whispered with a wavering tone. His breathing was slow and heavy now, and he looked up at his wife with a pleading expression. She knelt beside him, offering him whatever comfort she could give. 

At first, Victoria was at emotionless state as she saw him in the shape he was in. The thought of her husband dying right before her eyes didn't register. He had always been a tough character, frequently wounded on the job but always sprung back. Shock created a horribly daydreaming effect on her mind, making her believe that he'd be his lovably suave self within a few days rest. 

"You're going to be just fine, love . . . " Unthinkingly, Victoria's state of mind was a sort of comfort to him. Soon, though, reality would raise its ugly head. The look Steelbeak gave her was enough to make her come to her senses. Tears were flowing out from her eyes in waterfall amounts, and she collapsed over his fallen form. She got up off him so she wouldn't create unnecessary pain, and held on tight to his right hand. 

"A . . . Are y-you going to heaven, daddy?" Tatiana asked with a sniffle, grabbing a handful of his feathers in her little hands. She was too young to fully understand the concept of death, but old enough to know that something wasn't right with her father. 

"I . . . I don't know . . . " Steelbeak answered in a strained voice. The tears and blood were blurring his vision, and with a shudder he weakly nuzzled her and Victoria with his damaged beak. 

"Make him better, mommy." 

"I'll try, mate, I'll try . . . " Victoria gently said, stroking her head. She carefully rolled Steelbeak over onto his back and cradled his head in her arms. She knew he didn't have much time left now and decided to make it as peaceful as possible. 

"I . . . I have to go . . . " Keleen whispered to Javert with a catch to her voice. When he gave her a nod of approval, she got up and left to go outside. She couldn't watch any longer, and soon Javert followed her out into the rain. 

"I thought you would've loved to have seen zis day come!" Javert said in astonishment, hearing a soft cry arise from her voice. 

Giving him a tight hug, Keleen looked up at him with a shameful look. "Oh, I did, Javert! I just . . . Never thought I'd feel this way. That little kid . . . She got to me, and to tell you the truth, so did Steelbeak. I'm sorry for being all emotional and stuff. You can call off the wedding if you -- " 

"Non, non! I wouldn't think of such a thing!" Javert exclaimed with a wide grin, wiping a tear from her eyes. He was more than proud of what he had done, but so that he wouldn't further upset Keleen, he chose to not openly express it. 

"Lets go home, Keleen. I will put ze sauna on for you." 

Her mood lightened by this thought, Keleen followed him to the car with a smile replacing her sadness. "Thank you. It's been a long night. I could do with something like that!" 

After one last from Victoria, Steelbeak quietly passed away. He was now gone from the world that had hated him, and with it, the cursed pain and hounding. All his life he had been trying to run from the past that always came haunted, and now, he was free from it. 

That night, Javert proved to the world that he had the makings of a killer. At last, he accomplished his murderous objective but he would soon come to regret it. 

~The End~   



End file.
